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bethecliche · 26 days

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my love mine all mine l vincent renzi x f!original character

summary: after seeing her for the first time, he just fell (deeply) in love word count: 3.7k content: female reader (no description of genitalia), mention of sex, mention of stretch marks, description of hair and eye color (but not texture or skin color), french laws and locations being misinterpreted, use of tv shows and books I didn't watch or read, non canon note: english is not my first langague! I wrote this in portuguese and then translated to english myself, there's a chance you'll find an error or something. I'm sorry sorry! I highly recommend you to listen to the song while reading.

you can check the aesthetic references for this oneshot here but take note that none of the people actual faces on this reflects on the character identity that I wrote, so don't base all of the details on the references for the characters in story.

The first time he noticed her, she was sitting on one of the wooden benches outside the courtrooms. She seemed nervous, shaking her legs and glancing restlessly between the watch on her wrist and the clock on the hallway wall, as if it made much difference. Regardless of her worried expression and furrowed brow, Vincent felt that he had never seen such an attractive woman in his life. From her brown hair to her brown boots, looked like she stepped out of one of those '70s fashion advertisements he'd seen in vintage magazines as a kid. He didn't had time to notice much more than that, as he crossed the hallway and headed to his session. At the end of the day, of course, she was no longer there.

What seemed to have been one of those street crushes that you see when crossing an avenue and never think about again, stayed in Vincent's head for a few days. Every time he passed by the corridor, he waited to see if the brunette would be there. He tried to guess what she was doing there that day and whether there was a possibility of bumping into her again, a question to which the universe answered “yes”.

Two weeks later, this time leaving work, he looked down buttoning his blue coat, distracted in his thoughts when he noticed the same brown boots a few steps in front of him. The stranger held a cigarette between her fingers and had her arms pressed against her body. Although it was snowing lightly, it was extremely cold for an autumn day. Her look was different, probably due to the weather, with a coat with a puffed collar and puffed sleeves, once again looking like she belonged to a previous decade. The wind ruffled her hair a little and the moonlight illuminated her posture, a scene Vincent believed could have come from a movie.

All his past relationships were comfortable. Someone he knew in high school, someone he knew in college, someone who was introduced by friends or someone his friends encouraged him to talk during an outing. He didn't consider himself an introvert, but he never needed to pursue someone who was interested. Things just happened for him. It wasn't his comfort zone just to approach a stranger like that, much less at the door of his work, but something that day said it was the right thing to do.

He took a cigarette out of his pocket and approached the girl asking to borrow a lighter. His sudden plan only went so far.

As soon as she turned to face him, she gave a friendly and inviting smile, taking the object out of her pocket and activating the flame in front of his face. Vincent stood still, staring into her eyes throughout the action, mesmerized by her and her sparkling brown eyes.

“Will I ever meet a lawyer who doesn’t smoke?” She asked as she extinguished the flame, placing the lighter and her free hand back in her pocket. Too cold to let it out.

His response took a few agonizing seconds, as his mind was far away and still lost in her gaze. He composed himself, running a hand through his hair and looking away.

“The day this happens, let me know. I want to be there.” Vincent laughed awkwardly, causing the girl to laugh as well. At that moment, he felt that he wanted to provoke more of this reaction, he wanted to see more of her smile and so the conversation flowed.

His first question was how she guessed he was a lawyer and not a passerby to which she replied, "You stand like a lawyer." He shared how being a lawyer was boring and tedious, but it did have its dramatic moments in court when she asked if the career was challenging like its portrait on TV. He also discovered that she was there to pay a car ticket caused by her younger brother, hence the great nervousness when he first saw her a few weeks ago.

“When my parents told me that my 20th birthday present was a baby brother, I already felt within myself that I would be the best sister in the world. That I would try to make his life as easy as possible. 18 years later, he asks to borrow my car to visit his girlfriend - which I don't hesitate to do, after all I support young love. And the little shit-head makes sure on parking in front of a fire hydrant.” The girl blew smoke to her right side, not taking her eyes off him. “Would you be my lawyer if I try to choke him?”

Vincent could only laugh at her spontaneity, easy way of talking about life and easy way of making conversation.

“Just threaten him, it will be an easier case for me to win.”

They talked about Metz and how her family decided to move to Paris when she was a teenager because they knew the city needed more beautiful people, a fact Vincent agreed with. In order not to dismiss him, in a very charming way, she praised his Parisian accent and said that such a comment did not apply to him and only God knows how Vincent felt inside after that.

The two shared their tastes, such as reading romances and watching Dix pour cent every night before bed. It was as if they knew each other much more than the 1 hour they spent together under the snow. They shared maybe two more cigarettes before realizing it was getting a little too late to chat like that on the street.

He doesn't even know how he got out of that situation alive and managed to get home with her number.

Their first date was at a local cinema on a Friday night for a re-showing of Buffet Froid, a film Anne had never seen.

He didn't remember the last time he felt butterflies in his stomach, although it was guaranteed that nothing could compare to this time. As he got ready and tried to match his best t-shirts with his beige pants (which he eventually changed out of, finding them too tacky), Vincent remained nervous thinking that she might not show up or that this would be the first and last time they would meet in this circumstance.

In the end, all the “first time” flutter went out the window when he saw her smiling and waving on the other side of the street, already with the tickets in her hand. “I'm glad you came.” She said, holding his arm as they walked through the door of the establishment.

“I wouldn't miss it.” he replied.

The two took watching films very seriously, so it was only during the ending credits, after a lot of laughter, small comments and bumping hands on the popcorn bucket, that the two kissed.

He felt the softness of her skin on his hand and her sweet scent of perfume, in addition, of course, to the hot and saccharine kiss. It was slow, serene, just as they both wanted, being able to feel each other in that moment. It was also Anne's desire to slowly run her fingers through his hair and she didn't hesitate to take advantage of the opportunity.

After throwing their trash away, the two walked out of the cinema, now closer to each other, hand in hand. The weather wasn't as cold as when they first met and they were free to enjoy the warmth of their bodies without so many layers covering them.

“For a great 70's mind, you never having watched Buffet Froid is an insult.” He pointed at her with his free hand, wanting to tease her.

Anne rolled her eyes. Even though she liked the film, she didn't want to give a taste. “Obviously you would like action movies like that. It suits you.”

“I’ll make you like it too.” He stated, trying to imply that he wanted them to meet again, to which she responded by kissing his cheek and saying, “Next time, let's watch a romcom.”

Once, twice, three, four and a few more times, all being unusual dates. Sometimes she would call during his workday and say she would pick him up for an adventure. She drove aimlessly, just the two of them talking about their days and observing the city lights. These were Vincent's favorite “dates”, as they all ended with the two of them making out like two teenagers parked in the driveway of his apartment.

The more he got to know about her, the more he wanted to constantly be a part of her life. Anne owned a clothing store downtown, something he never tired of saying was the “most suitable job her”. On the last date they had, she took him to the closed store and put on a fashion montage for him, with improvised note cards on paper left on the counter and all. But she knew that the judge had been bought when he only gave her 10s. She also took the opportunity to get Vincent to do the same, putting him once again out of his comfort zone to find out that bell bottom jeans don't really suit him.

They even got to watch a car race - something that not even Anne had done, she had just decided that it was an experience they needed to have. They both entended up hating it, but the important thing was that the company was great.

That was one of the nights Anne slept at his house.

They ate some junk food from the fridge and watched a silly but captivating show on TV while they chatted more. When she realized she could sleep at any moment, Anne got up to brush her teeth and change her clothes, putting on her uniform for whenever she was there: a Vincent t-shirt.

Vincent found it charming how she captivated his gaze regardless of what she was doing. He loved her unique and sophisticated style, but he also loved seeing her like this, casually wearing his clothes, in his home, as if she were his. And lastly, he loved seeing her with nothing on.

Every detail of her body, her birthmarks on her shoulder and that one next to her beautiful eyes or her stretch marks on her back, everything about her seemed to have been chosen down to the millimeter. When they made love, his hands went everywhere, trying to reach as much of her as he could, to feel the warmth she exuded.

And the best way to love her was by looking into her eyes, admiring her beauty, running his lips up and down her body, being grateful for the privileged position it was to be able to love her.

Mornings were like nights, with him waking up earlier and being able, once again, to admire the woman beside her.

“You are even more beautiful in the morning.”

The two walked through the streets of Paris, both tipsy, looking for an available taxi in the dead of night. With their relationship now more established and their schedules aligned, they made it a challenge to come up with these unusual date only once a month so it wouldn't lose its fun. Today had been the day to go to the opera and due to their lack of sobriety, they didn't seem to have left anywhere other than the shabbiest bar on the corner.

The event was boring as fuck and they left halfway through to drink somewhere more enjoyable. They found an open bar showing a PSG versus Marseille match. Neither of them supported the teams or understood about football rules, but this seemed like a new opportunity for them to have another different experience that day.

One laughter after another, some passionate kisses between drinks and the two were celebrating PSG's victory at the bar with some strangers whom they befriended.

“My mother wants to meet you. My brother too. I said I might have a lawyer for the next time he's up to no good. Do you think it’s too early?”

When drunk, Anne tended to speak fast and slurred, but Vincent understood perfectly. He smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing the tip of her nose. “I will love meeting your family.”

They never actually asked each other to go steady, but it was clear that they already belonged to each other at that point.

Vincent was on his cell phone writing a text to his mother about the shopping list for Christmas dinner and their desire to participate in decorating the tree (Anne's request to spend more time with her mother-in-law) while his girlfriend was lying on his lap reading his copy of Around the World in 80 Days (and she was loving it, for sure).

It was a lazy day for both of them at Vincent's place. A year into their relationship, the two of them loved sharing these moments together doing different activities.

“She said she misses you a lot and looks forward to seeing you on Christmas, but that you're banned from being near the kitchen when it is time to prepare desserts. Everything you touch that’s sweet ends up burning for some reason.”

Her smile, excited by her mother-in-law's affection, turned into a face indignant at the rule she imposed. "What?" She looked up from the book and pulled Vincent's hand to check if the message was real and it was. “This is so unfair!”

“Sorry, Anne, you’re just really bad at this.”

She lightly pushed his arm and pretended to be uncomfortable, although she knew it was true and wasn't really upset. Before she could return to her book, Vincent placed his cell phone on the table and began talking.

“One more thing, huh,” he cleared his throat, “I made one more space on the rack for you. I don't want certain clothes to get wrinkled in the drawer. I’ll make room in one more drawer too.”

Anne put the book aside and knelt on the sofa, facing her boyfriend. “Won’t it bother you? I already have space in my bedroom drawer, bathroom… In fact, there are a lot of my things scattered around the house. I don’t want to impose my space here.”

This was a subject that she had also been waiting to comment on for some time. By working her own hours at the store and having an employee to take her place wherever needed, Anne had a more flexible schedule than Vincent and it was easier to stay at his house, helping to keep everything on track and cooking for both of them. He would arrive just before dinner time and they could enjoy together without rushing to do the chores.

Because of this, the few clothes she wore just to sleep there became a drawer full, her makeup in the bathroom sink and her shoes near the door.

The gray-haired man hugged her around the waist, kissing her forehead and assuring her of his action. “You are not imposing anything, mon chéri. I want you to use this space. I want to have more and more of you here.”

For him, having her scent permeate the rooms was a gift wrapped in the best bow. Knowing that every day he would come home to see her welcoming smile and welcome kiss was the biggest work incentive.

“It feels like my home.” She whined.

“It’s your home. Our home.” He insisted.

In his favorite action, he cupped her face and looked warmly into her eyes, admiring her features trying to associate with what he was trying to say. They both smiled at each other realizing where the topic was going.

“Are you…”

“I want you to move in with me.”

The beautiful smile that filled his heart appeared on her face and Vincent, who was sure of her choice, but a little afraid of her accepting it, smiled too at her positive reaction.

In conclusion, he ended up needing to make more closet space for her countless boots, but he was happy that she could call the space her own (and she looks great in those boots, he would never complain about making room for them).

The snack table was almost empty and that made Anne happy. She might not be good at desserts, but her food was always praised and she almost never had leftovers when she cooked for her friends.

“This sandwich is delicious, aunt Anne!” Daniel stated, taking another one from the table and sitting on the sofa next to her. “Can I take some home?”

“Of course you can! There’s more stored in the kitchen, I’ll put it on the side for you to take.” She continued, now coming closer to whisper. “You can give Snoop a bite, I won’t tell your mom.”

“Hey, I’m watching you two!” Sandra said towards the back of the sofa, pointing at the two jokingly. She was talking to Vincent leaning against the wall in the hallway, looking anxious.

There was approximately 10 people spread throughout the room at this gathering. The couple chose to host a celebration for the launch of Sandra's new book, a dear friend of both, and tried to make room for everyone present. She was very delighted with the honor, although unaccustomed to the positive attention she was receiving.

Even though they weren't glued to each other at the party, Anne and Vincent always stopped for a moment to exchange a kiss and ask if everything was okay. He, even more so, couldn't stop admiring his girlfriend from afar. Parties like this always made him happy to be able to share the love he had for her and also show others that this was his girl.

It was around 6pm that they said their goodbyes and thanked their friends for being there. After closing the door, Anne took a deep breath and leaned against it with Vincent kissing her neck and hugging her waist.

“Had fun today?” He asked against her neck, kissing slowly until he reached her face. Hugging him back, she just nodded yes, pulling him into a longing and passionate kiss.

Vincent pressed his body against hers and tightened his grip, placing his free hand against the wall for support. Everything was going well, until Vincent suddenly stopped, as if he couldn't give in to temptation yet.

He also took a deep breath, with a shy smile as he looked at her.

“Is something wrong?” She asked, still leaning against the door and resting her hands on his shoulder.

"What?" He retorted.

“During the party, you kept looking at me like that, with those heart-eyes, that fool in love face of yours. And now you're doing it again. It seems... different.”

Vincent laughed awkwardly, as if he was unprepared to respond that quickly. “In my defense, I always look like a fool in love when I’m with you.”

Before anything else, Vincent took a red velvet box out of his pocket and opened it, showing a silver ring made especially for her. With the hand that was on her waist, he slipped into her hand and intertwined their fingers.

“Kneeling isn’t your style, nor are long speeches in front of our friends, but I can’t just leave the ring in your hand without saying anything. The day I saw you for the first time, I was intrigued. The second time, that feeling I had of needing to talk to you urgently, of not letting the opportunity pass, I think, somehow, I knew we were going to get to this moment right now. By the third time - I was already in love. Head over heels, worshiping the ground you pass, heart-eyes, whatever you want to call it. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't feel those butterflies in my stomach before seeing you, that I don't feel the eager to be by your side. If you do me the honor of marrying me, I can promise that you will have a man who wakes up in love with you every day. Forever.”

Anne's eyes were already full of tears as soon as she saw the box and she couldn't help but shed them when she heard the proposal.

The last 4 years of their lives were instinctive, passionate, in a way she never thought she would experience. All her last lovers didn't last long, they couldn't handle her personality or couldn't love her right, so she was left with no hope that it would change. But Vincent's speech was something that she not only believed, she felt. Every day, she felt his love, his affection and his care. Wave of action speaks louder than words and she trusted her man.

There was no other answer than yes.

The same word was repeated by the two of them at the registry office a few months later. The idea was never a big party, it didn't suit either of their personalities, but Anne always wanted a dress and a veil, so they were both there, in their wedding clothes just before lunch time in the registry office next to Vincent's work place.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!”

With that sentence, the two shared a classic wedding kiss, with Vincent holding her around the waist and Anne throwing her leg up. They could live that moment over and over again, but they needed to go out for a little celebration party with their friends before they left for their honeymoon (and Anne was more than eager to have her friends around so she could toss the bouquet).

Outside, in another snowy day, Anne reached through the car window and took a black bag from the glove compartment, handing it to her now husband.

“What is it?” He held on, swinging by the loop to feel the weight so he could find out what it could be.

“It's your wedding gift.” She cheerfully replied.

He stole one more kiss from his wife before opening the bag, already imagining what could be inside.

“It has our initials and today’s date on it,” she pointed to the bottom where the details were, “so no other girl coming out of court will need to offer you the lighter.”

Vincent took a cigarette out of his jacket pocket and lit it with his newest gift, but without inhaling, just lighting it for the sake of it.

“No one will have my love. Only you, mon chéri."

#vincent renzi #swann arlaud #anatomy of a fall #fluff #i scrobbled this song 102 times to write this #my love mine all mine #vincent renzi fanfiction #vincent renzi x original character

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missgeniality · 1 year

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Strip Lawyer (m)

“Rules are for children.” - Joe Abercrombie

➺ Banner: The supremely talented @dnrequests 💛

➺ Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Tutor!AU, Lawyer!AU

➺ Genre: Smut

➺ Rating: +18

➺ Word Count: 8.4k

➺ Summary: Years ago, as Jungkook’s tutor, you played a game – but not to completion. Today, he does the teaching. And he’s intent on reaching the finale.

➺ Warnings: dom!reader x sub!jk then dom!jk x sub!reader, strip poker but education, implied consent, little power imbalance, seggsual tension, restraints, oral sex (m&f receiving), grinding, jungkook is a tease as always, dirty talk, kissing, alcohol, boob play ehehe, fingering (f receiving), pussy slap, spitting, tearing clothes, biting, degradation, unprotected sex, jk cums on her ass, cum eating (kind of)

➺ Cross Posted: AO3

➺ Author’s Note: This was supposed to be @taegularities‘s birthday gift because she asked for Lawyer!AU - but in true Siya fashion, it went out of control. So... here you go LOL happy buttday to youuu, hope you enjoy ittt 💛💛 The biggest thanks to @jimilter because she is the reason I did not delete the draft, thank you so much for all your help in fixing this mess, love you so muuucchh 💛 Also huge huge huge thanks to @alpacaseoks for helping me with the flow and giving me pointers in a big chunk of the fic, I appreciate it so much! 💛 Disclaimer: I am not a law student in any way so please don’t expect any accuracy. Just enjoy the sex, I’m begging. Let me know what y’all think, and as always, thank you for being here!

ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

“You’re not serious.”

If only he knew.

“So. Serious.” You emphasise your words with a slap on his shoulder, “I won’t have it on my honour that a student under my tutelage has been failing the same subject for two years.” You raise an eyebrow at the hunched figure ahead, and knock on the table to bring his attention up to you.

“So you’ll just… Strip? Everytime I answer correctly?”

“That’s right,” you confirm, “and for every wrong answer, you strip for me. Simple.” You give Jungkook the widest grin you ever have, possibly too wide, because he only hunches further into his seat.

And it finally bursts your bubble.

“I mean… I’m just–you don’t have to do this, okay?” You scramble up from your seat, opening the distance between you two – placing yourself a good few feet away from the boy. “I was just… having fun with the idea—” With stumbling haste you continue to comfort him, “I jus–isn’t this like classic nerd porn that you’d watch?”

And you remember that comforting a fellow human being isn’t really your forte. You’re ready to gather all your belongings that are spread across the table, run away, change your name and hope like hell he doesn’t file you up for harassment.

Thankfully, your shabby attempt at damage control does ease Jungkook, and his back straightens a little bit as he brings himself to look at you.

“Not wrong,” he gives you a grin, “I–I really like that, umm, idea. Yes, let’s do it.”

He trails off, but not without a smile of burgeoning confidence – apparently not enough to finish that sentence with, but enough to give you one strong nod – and you have the affirmation you need. More affirmation is given by his not-so-subtle shift in his seat, that shows you something was making its presence known in the confines of his pants.

“All right, let’s start this. International Law and Relations is pretty easy, and actually has very interesting sub-topics – you can take subjects on this topic when you move to the next semester,” you pause flipping through the textbook and give your tutee, “if you move to the next semester. Thankfully, this year you have multiple choice questions, so… You better fucking pass, you hear me?!”

Jungkook only gives you a sheepish grin, his hands fiddling with each other.

“Okay, we’ll go through chapters randomly. Your first one – what is a country’s exclusive economic zone?”

On completing the question, you look up and await an answer – but the doe eyes that greet you back showcase that behind them, there is a lot of emptiness. Jungkook’s eyebrows are raised as he tries his best to push out any answer, any words, just anything from his brain. Alas, after two minutes, you give up.

“Okay, you’re going first then,” your voice breaks his intense thought process, and he flashes you a wide grin.

“Socks count right?” He pulls off the socks on both his feet, and wiggles his toes against the fresh air.

“Why you wear socks in this weather, it’s beyond me,” you huff an exasperated sigh, “but okay. One down. Exclusive economic zones are the sea-areas where coastal states have the right to exploit resources for economic gains. Think fisheries, mining, construction, artificial islands, and other endeavours. Capisce?”

“Got it. Next!”

“Love the enthusiasm,” you grin at his eager look, and open the textbook to a random page again, “okay, same chapter, what are the three international air laws?”

“Oh, I know this! I read thi–uhh, Public International Law, Private International Law…”

“Yesss? And?”

“Why is my brain saying Supernatural Law?”

One look at his bamboozled face and you burst out laughing. “Supranational Law! Not Superna—” Your persistent giggles have you dropping the book onto your lap, hands rushing to wipe a tear that makes its way down your cheek. You can see a bleary Jungkook, following suit in your snickers, his shoulders rising up – it’s a very cute view.

No, Jungkook is not your type of guy – and you will not make him.

You’re actually supposed to wrap up this session with Jungkook earlier than usual – because a party doesn’t wait for anyone – and last night Baekhyun told you he’d pick you up. When you asked him whether the party was, he only sent you a smirking emoji as a response.

Rude boys are your standard, and Baekhyun fits it to the tee. Jungkook, not so much.

But now you’ve started something that can’t possibly end soon.

“Okay, next item!” You aim to be loud, to quell that finagling thought in your mind.

“But—” Jungkook sputters out, “but I got that right?! Come on, it was close enough!”

You shake your head. “A hundred, or nothing. Chop chop,” you wave a gratuitous hand at his torso – and he obliges with a sigh.

God damn.

The gamer nerd, who probably doesn’t see the light of day – his body is way too beautiful for his character arc. You scan his whole chest with your glaring beam, pecs ogling back at you – totally unaware of how Jungkook is doing the same to you – it takes considerable effort for you to rip your eyeballs out and get them to focus back on his face.

You take a large, audible gulp to facilitate speech, “Okay, didn’t know that’s what would greet me – moving on—”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean absolutely nothing, you closeted hottie,” you attempt to close that argument with that sole compliment – after all, you do have a tutoring responsibility – but Jungkook’s singular raised eyebrow makes you wonder if that party is really worth it.

Oh no, you need to make him pass this.

“Let’s move on now, or else you won’t ever move on from college,” you deflate whatever ego-ballooning Jungkook has – his bare shoulders slumping back to his hunched posture – and you internally grin.

Picking up the thick textbook, you flip through to find a new page laced with information. “Name three international hybrid tribunals, and their subject matter.”

“Okay okay, I just did this,” Jungkook starts off with confident, “the Special Tribunal for Lebanon, which is for the the prosecution of the people responsible for the assassination of the Lebanese Prime Minister, Special Court for Sierra Leone—” he pauses to take a deep breath and you watch his chest heave with an intent gaze, “which was for the Sierra Leone civil war, and finally… What was the–uhh– for the Kosovo War… Yes! Yes! Kosovo Specialist Chambers! The Kosovo Liberation army was put on trial,” he ends with a gleeful smile.

“There you gooo! See, you can totally do this,” you give him an encouraging nod, “what do you want me to take off?”

“O-oh, umm, your top?”

“Sure,” setting the book on the table, you slip out of your camisole, shaking your head to send your hair back to their place, “shall we move on?”

But moving on gets tougher when he eyes you like that. The air gets denser within your space, the room feeling too small to escape the tension, and too big to act upon it. You remind yourself multiple times – this chocolate boy isn’t going to be the end of your night – your night ends on Baekhyun’s unspoken promise – but the eclipsing eyes that follow your neon bralette are pushing your brain to reconsider how you write this evening.

“You–uh–you are really hot,” Jungkook’s fumbling words finally reach you.

You chuckle, stifling the urge to egg him on. “Thank you,” is your quiet response, and you both do well to stifle the snowballing tension.

“Okay, now I’m way more motivated to get my answers right,” he exclaims with vigour, and the two of you trudge forward, keeping up this charade of studies.

Many questions down, and you’re at quite the standstill.

Jungkook sits on his chair, not an inch of clothing on his body, stark naked – and you are about to lose your bra.

Apparently he can apply himself real well when there are lewd incentives at the end of the rainbow. You circumvented the inevitable, counting riddance of jewellery and accessories as stripping – but now you’re out of options. Jungkook’s lips – pulled into a tender smirk that isn't racy – don’t threaten to sweep you off your feet – but fuck, they still get to you. Supple, with the slightest hint of moisture making his waterline glisten… you ache to taste them, to run your fingers over them, to drip honey all over them and watch them turn sweeter than ever.

You need to get on Baekhyun’s dick. ASAP.

“Go on, I know that was right!”

Breaking out of your reverie with a demure huff, you smile your way out of your bra, and you can fully hear the deep inhale that your tutee has to take to this new view. With a brazen look of gloating, you cross your arms, letting your eyes and your cleavage do all the teasing – lest your tongue stumbles over the words and lands in his mouth.

“Shi–yo–you’re—” Jungkook’s words falter as well, giving you an extra boost of pride. “Fuck, you’re so goddamn hot – I’m sorry, is this the fifth time I’m saying this?”

You laugh with him. “Yeah, probably. Could use a thesaurus.”

“I don’t think my brain will process anything on it. This keeps coming out because I got practice. Said it about a hundred times in my head.”

With your head thrown back, your whole body jiggles in laughter, filling the room with mirth and joy to replace the leaden lust in the air. You bend forward to flick his forehead, knowing full well that the movement just makes your breasts look more enticing; if that was even a possibility. His cock is stiff as iron, and you can fill a drying lake with your current rate of salivation. Both of you clearly recognize that words are flowing slower than before, movements are more calculated than before, and most importantly, eye contact lasts way too long for either of you to ignore.

“Okay, umm, last question, then I need to be off.” You attempt to bring a close to this increasing strain in your throat, no matter how badly your body wants to delay your departure. “What years did the Hague Conventions take place?”

“I hate these questions,” murmurs Jungkook, “I remember the subject matters of it – it’s not like knowing the exact dates and times will help me avert war.” His pout makes you falter, like there isn’t a fully grown naked man in front of you, like he isn’t testing your limits right now.

“So… No answer?”

Jungkook shakes his hung head, having given up on finding an answer. “What now, I can’t peel my skin or something,” he starts, a very innocent tone for this ambiance.

“Yeah, I mean, I gotta g—”

“And I’m out of jewellery, too, so—”

“Yeah, it’s cool, I’m gonna head out anyw—”

“You wanna tie me up or something?”

Silence.

Too long of a silence.

“I mea—”

“Jeon. Jung. Kook.” Your staccato of words work as a beat, your legs moving in its sync. You bend down for a brief moment to pick up his discarded t-shirt, but the rest of your movement wastes no time in finding a seat on his lap.

His dick presses against your clothed core, imbuing the ache that he currently feels, and goody – you both are in serious pain. And when you lean ahead to gather his hands into a knot on his back, he takes a sharp inhale – your breasts doing everything his dick-led-brain has been wanting for the whole session – pressing against his chest to feel every throb that races through your body.

“You have no filter,” you whisper into his ear, making sure he feels your damp lips move, “do you?”

“N–N–I, me–nngghh,” Jungkook labours through this ordeal, his hips going the extra mile to close the gap between you two.

When you feel his hardness work against your pulsing clit, it only eggs you further, and the rudderless ship of your resolve yaws out of its lane, finding its anchor in the parted lips in your view.

If your surroundings could combust at the spark that you set off with the kiss, you’d be sitting in a castle of embers, licks of flames being innocent bystanders to the heat that your kiss generates. Your fingertips dig into the nape of his neck, and you swallow his groan with an eager tongue. Without a break, the kiss turns feral.

You push into his mouth. He returns in kind – although there’s nothing kind about the way he digs his teeth into your lip. The hiss you attempt to release never makes it out to the world – Jungkook is intent on ending this kiss only when the last breaths in your bodies threaten to leave, carrying along with them your consciousness.

And when that point comes, you part – your head is thrown back, and your hand carded in his hair pulls his back as well. Brisk, shallow breathing is the tune to which you gather your bearings. Your thighs burn for relief, the ache of holding your body in place settling in as the dopamine dies. From your awkward position, you flit an eye towards your partner in crime – and any dopamine that was dying, comes rushing back.

Your hands are still in the lush strands of his hair, and his lidded eyes are bouncing between many areas of view. Your libidinous eyes, your wet lips, your heaving breasts, or the junction of your thighs that give his hardness teasing touches. Maintaining this position, you dig into his cock, your flimsy underwear allowing your arousal to caress against his hot and awaiting length. He groans – it’s animalistic, it’s uninhibited, it’s none of the shy gamer nerd who cowered under the weight of your knowledge. His eyes, fervid, shuttle between all of your exposed skin, finding an anchor, but failing to stop.

“Look at you, is this what you really wanted?” It shocks you how far your voice shakes – what caused it – the kissing, the breathing, or the rock hard cock currently against your throbbing pussy? Who knows.

“I mean… We wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want this,” Jungkook bites out an answer with great difficulty, “I—I definitely wan—ungh!”

You just can’t resist. His neck. His clavicles. His bobbing Adam’s apple. His chest. His restrained arms making a tireless effort to feel you. You leech onto his sparkling skin, and drag your tongue in the confines – Jungkook’s words transform into unintelligent warble, just the way you like.

Sliding downward, and acknowledging the slight ‘fuck’ that Jungkook exhales with a smirk, you lodge yourself directly in front of his broad, heaving chest. The position is awkward — a lot of your body weight lays on your hands that balance you on the chair’s seat – but your current view makes any pain go away.

“Could this be the reason,” you land a soft peck in the middle of his chest, “why your grades are like this,” trailing your path with your nose, you move left, “we could have just gotten this over with,” you end the sentence with a swirl of your tongue around his already pebbling nipple.

He hisses a string of unintelligible curses, arching into your ministrations, “Yo–you’d have d–done tha—” His train of thought ends with an audible gasp when you engulf the nipple in your mouth.

“For my tutee,” you release his nipple with a pop and look back up at his eager-to-please-face, cupping a cheek, “anything.”

“Can y—can you get rid of thi–this?” He shakes his bound hands from behind, his shoulder muscles bulging in the movement.

You simply shoot him an innocent look. “But you asked for it, didn’t you?”

“I thought that was the best thing that could happen to me,” Jungkook huffs with a light pout, “right now, I’m regretting it so hard.” As he speaks, you move to trail a soft line of kisses across his chest, reaching his other, neglected nipple. With your eyes locked in with his, you lick around the nub again, enjoying his restrained groans from your vantage.

“You don’t like it? What would you do if you… could touch me?”

“Fuck, I would—I wo—God, I would wrap myself around you… take a big piece of that ass, tear off your fuckin’ underwear… Grab your tits and dig my face into them till it’s time to execute my will—”

You chortle, still busy teasing his chest and making it hard for him to make his words flow. “You don’t need your hands for the last one baby.”

Your skin rumbles against the loud groans of pleasure that come out of Jungkook when you press his face into your chest, and you feel him frantically lick and suck at your skin, tongue lolling at whatever it could catch a taste of.

“Ahh, this is—making me want some very bad things,” you chuckle at the throes of pleasure he is pushing you under, but are surprised at yourself how much your voice quivers as well. Jungkook makes a show of fighting his restraints; you very well know that you don’t have a sailor’s knot guide on you, and the fight he’s putting up is not more than the fight you had been putting up throughout this evening.

“Bad things?” Jungkook’s breathy whisper brings you back to his lips, and you drop back on his lap, grinding yourself just enough to let your wetness cover his twitching length. “You’re my tutor, I–I’m sure you only want the best for me.”

With your show of repress finally curtained, you drop to your knees, arching your back until you’re face-to-face with his member – tip leaking copious amounts of precum, owing to the hours of tension that you put him through. Jungkook’s thighs tighten under your enrapt gaze, and his staccato breathing is music to your ears.

“Well, since I am your tutor,” you preen before you drag your tongue around the base of his dick, “and since I want only the best for you,” you drag your tongue up his muscle in one long stroke, “let me give you the best that I have.”

You wrap your lips around him thinking about how sweet he looks. You draw figures with your tongue thinking about how he's absolutely not your type. You suck more of his length into you thinking about how his moans differ from your average partner. So sweet. So pure. So untainted.

So, so not for you.

Perhaps sweet is what you nee—

“I’m gonna cu—”

The shrill ring of your phone pierces through Jungkook’s uncontained moans as he empties into your mouth recklessly. With your eyes closed, you try your best to savour the crisp, salty taste, letting your tongue cheekily lap at his member until you feel him shudder under your stimulation. Satiated, you get to your feet, looking eye to eye with the doe-eyed monster – who has the gall to look so pure even now, hands tied, balls empty.

“I should… Get that.”

Unsurprisingly, Baekhyun is pissed that you kept his premium cock waiting at your doorstep, and you appease his injured ego while finding your clothes and bearings. Jungkook relieves himself of the ‘restraints’, eyes following your disrobed body as it finds its modesty back, piece by piece.

“Okay… my phone, my book, my jewellery… I think I got everything,” you announce to the small, overheated room. “Jungkook. Good luck, this is the one thing you gotta pass, make sure you reread chapters 8 to 11, don’t blindly mark something because it sounds reasonable because nothing in this world is, make sure you have eno—”

“But! Listen—” His voice, still so sweet, not a hint of demanding assertion in his tone, just plain and beautiful pleading. “Wh–when can we… Umm when can we m–meet again?”

Ugh, your heart.

“Listen, I’m going away on vacation, my exams are over,” with a mildly heavy heart you try to explain to him without rushing, “that’s why this was our last class. And after that, I’ll be moving away. But!” With a spring in your step you open his door to let yourself out. “Keep in touch! Keep texting me, okay?” With your second shoe on, you stand at the stairs leading you out of his apartment, and look at him for one last word.

And you see his beautiful body and almost crumble back into his apartment.

“Yeah… Will do, bye!” He pulls himself together and grants you a bright, guilt-free smile.

So sweet, even when you’re blowing him off. So, so sweet.

But you don’t do sweet. So accepting his goodbye, you run like a deer being chased by the hungriest predator, towards the spice that awaits at your door.

Damned professional attires. Why can’t they look good without having to be tended to every fucking day?

You curse yourself for the cup ramen breakfast that ruined your only good shirt, owing to which you have this stainless but wrinkled shirt on you. It is very out of place, the lush lobby walls making you feel like every crease on you is magnified by a thousand.

It’s obviously not the shirt that is making your stomach gurgle. It is the upcoming meeting that is creating turmoil in your insides, part dread and part excitement.

“He will see you now.”

This guy has a receptionist and an assistant. Why is he so boujee? One look at his office door and you already know – this meeting will not go as per plan.

And when you push the heavy-set mahogany door, and take the man sitting at the baroque desk, silhouette highlighted by the clear night sky behind him – you’re certain this night was made for trouble.

“Ah, look who it is.”

That voice. So different from the last time you spoke. Gone is the tender, dulcet voice of his, gone are his soft, vulnerable eyes, and gone is the benevolent disposition that he carried around with pride.

As he takes a good, slow look at you, assessing you from top to bottom, gleaming with mischievous confidence, you shuffle in discomfort at all this directed display of interest. The million twinkles in eyes have coagulated to turn into a ball of inferno. With that blaze, he drags his eyes all over you, tracing your contours with the pens of his gaze, making you feel nails and needles through your spine. Unabashed. Doesn’t care that you’re waiting to take a seat, doesn’t care about your obvious discomfiture, just holding you at your place like a puppet to his watchful leer. The black-on-black suit fits his body like a dream, and the things you want to do to him are straight out of a nightmare.

“Please, why are you still standing?” His assessment complete, he waves an arm to the plush leather seats at your disposal. “Have a seat.”

Moments of uncomfortable silence pass by you, but only you seem bothered by it. You hate how fidgety you are right now, showing your cards so plainly. But truth be told, you have no cards to show. You’re here for his help, and there’s no game to be played with him.

“You’ve done well for yourself,” you offer, making a general gesture to show his entire office space. You could fit nineteen of your cubicles in here, and still have space to waltz around. Your incessant jumping from one firm to another, attempts at finding footing wherever you land but ultimate dissatisfaction with whatever was presented to you led to a not-so-stellar career, and tonight, to this office.

“Thanks.” He offers nothing more. And his lack of words definitely stings.

How did someone who breezed through law school end up like this?

More importantly, how did someone who was barely passing subjects under you end up in a position of such power?

And most important of them all, how did you end up being at his mercy?

"So tell me,” he begins once again, bursting your bubble of self-detestation, “how can I help you?"

You take a deep, rich breath and start. "I'm assuming you read my email, so I just nee—"

"You're gonna have to pause right there. I didn't." A simple response, with a simple smile, and you simply want to crawl into a hole and never see sunlight ever again. Jungkook doesn’t even try to explain himself out of this – no excuse or reasons given as to why the email remains unread. And as happenstance would have it, you are in no position to ask him why.

"Very well." You tap the file ahead, taking a deep breath and starting again, "This file should have it all. It’s better if you read through it, I might miss details."

Jungkook’s extended, bejewelled hand accepts the file, and leafs through the bundle of papers you’ve prepared for him. But that is not what you’re internalising. You're too busy furtively eyeing his bedecked office, the wooden panels offering a private divide between the office space and a separate seating area. The ritzy furniture establishing the space, the lavish lighting giving more depth to the space, the skyline flaunting its glory above it all – you're fraught with uncontrollable envy.

A call to your name jolts you, moving your eyes to him.

“So do you need me as co-counsel? I hardly think you need the help.”

“Please, don’t patronise me,” you chide him, the repressed irritation showing its face. “I know I’ve not had the best set of years in this field. And I know I fucked up on this one, pardon my French.”

“Well,” he pays no heed to your agitated tone, pushing the file back to you – just enough, so you are forced to get up to reach, “you’re right about that. You fucked up. I can definitely look into this, but I have a heavy workload as it is.” He simply shrugs, a mock-saintly frown on his lips.

What happened to your sugar-cookie boy who would do anything to make you proud?

Who is this man?

“I know, but I’m—” You swallow everything in you that stops the words, “I’m desperate. This meeting was clearly out of desperation. I know you knew what this was about. Why would you accept an appointment this late if you weren’t going to take on the job?”

“Maybe I just wanted to see you. Maybe I was curious what my tutor was doing, after leaving me high and dry that fateful night.”

He says it with such a harmless smile, like he just announced what he had for dinner. If you weren’t shaken yet, you now are.

“If I remember correctly, that was not the case. But for now, I’m asking for your help. That’s how I’m doing.”

“Yeah well,” with a smooth move, he gets out of his charcoal seat, and glides towards the tasteful couches placed on the other end of this palatial office, your heartbeat picking up pace from a gentle jog to a frantic pace, “I think I’m entitled to something in return.”

You follow him to the couch across the room, seating yourself on it – and taking a second to enjoy how comfortable it feels. “I literally swallowed your load that night. If anything, I’m the one entitled to this.”

“I’m sure your boy-toy that night gave you everything you needed, didn’t he?”

Deep breath. He remembers the night very well. Too well.

Did you expect that? No.

Did you want to find out?

Well, why else did you choose his name from a catalogue of high-end lawyers who could have saved your ass in this case?

What’s that saying… Curiosity kills your pus—

“Listen,” you interrupt your own reverie, “you will receive remuneration for your work, my boss is ready to—”

“Nuh–uh,” he tuts, “come on now, we really don’t need to play this cat and mouse game, do we?”

A deep exhale calms your nerves against this burgeoning yet desired situation, and you leave your seat to accept the glass of whiskey he’s offering you. After returning to the couch and gulping the hootch, you meet his accursed, biting gaze. “What can we even wager on like that night? It’s not like I have test questions to ask you anymore,” you throw the ball back into his court, desperately hoping he finds a good enough solution.

“Oh, no, no, no,” he teases you, sliding into the seat – it’s unbearable how good he looks with this confidence. He gets in your space, still holding his undrunk glass of whiskey, peering into your eyes as he makes his proposal. “I think a bit of role reversal will do us good,” he smiles back at you. “Do you good.”

“My definition of good, or yours?”

He smiles at your attempt at feigning confidence. “I don’t think they differ by much.”

In this quietude, the frenetic beating of your heart rings all the way up in your ears. It is a testament to how agog this transformed man leaves you; by the way he speaks, the way he looks, the way he commands your entire being. Words fail you, so you whisper a small ‘yeah’ and nod – you definitely knew where this night was going the moment you called his office, even if your ego strives hard to say otherwise.

“Let’s start simple,” he begins with a slap to his thigh, seating himself comfortably, “where did you go that night?”

What tactic is this? You’re baffled that this man – looking like a Michelin-star-seven-course-meal – cares about that one immaterial night.

Was it really immaterial, though?

Youngling Jungkook was probably offended, you posit to yourself, by the way you left things hanging (pun very much intended).

“How would you know if I lie?”

“I’ll decide that.” His eyes add “and you’ll follow.” No room for discussion is provided.

“Right.” You sip on your refilled glass, clearing your throat before you answer, “I don’t know if you know him, Byun Baekhyun.” You look in his eyes for recognition, but you can’t read anything, anything at all. “I had to meet him.”

“To fuck?”

“Well, yes. Drinks and then that.”

“Okay, I’ll take that.”

And you’ve passed question one – all your clothing fully intact.

“Next question,” his eyes filled with sensual mirth, “was he any good?”

“Oh my God,” you throw your hands up, ready to leave the seat in a show of exasperation, “are you—is this insecurity? After all these years?”

“Well, I’m asking the questions, so I don’t owe you an explanation,” Jungkook leans into the cushions, his confident manner growing with each passing second, “but you might say, I’m curious.”

A moment of silence passes.

“Yes.”

“Ahh…” He tuts at you, inching closer until you feel the microfibres of his coat against you, “Wrong answer.”

Of course it’s the wrong answer.

Byun Baekhyun might have been one of the best fucks of the campus, and you might’ve had a lot of fun with him on erstwhile rendezvouses, but that night wasn’t either of your nights, with him being pissed of at you for making his dick wait, and you having your mind glued on a totally different dick to his. The lie might have been obvious, but the fact that you’re having to accept it right now is making your ears heat up.

You don’t really need to do this.

Oh, but you do.

“Go on,” Jungkook coaxes you with his honey-dripping voice, lidded eyes tormenting you, “you know the rules.”

In the tense air, you take off a bracelet, the fake diamonds leaving a chill on your wrist. After dangling it in his face, you drop it onto the couch seat.

“Good…” Jungkook teases, wondering which deviation of his brain to follow next. “Next. Did you think about me while getting your mediocre pounding from Baekhyun?”

“Oh my God, no!” Your rude tone is extra sharp, like you didn’t even want to entertain the thought that Jungkook would think – Jungkook would know – that that’s what happened.

To this date, you do not remember anything of Baekhyun – your memories of that day have been painted with Jungkook and Jungkook alone.

“Come on now,” his smug visage turns ungodly, eyebrow cocked up, “a white lie. Off,” is all he says.

You bend down to reach for the buckle of your shoe. Owing to Jungkook sitting fairly close, your line of sight is delicious – his taut suit pants defining the thighs that he’s clearly worked for; basically ogling at his thighs and crotch in close proximity. With shaky hands, your shoes finally come off – no thanks to the burst of anticipation flooding your veins.

“Have you ever thought about us on lonely nights?” The closer he moves, with each syllable of utterance, the farther you feel from a sense of control.

“No…” Your words stammer, and you mentally give the point to Jungkook. Looking up, you find him smirking at your shrinking stature.

“Ahh… You make it too easy,” he just chides you, and you start slipping out your rings.You’re well aware that you are the one dragging this out – but the “yes” just does not want to grace your lips.

Maybe because you actually like this game.

Maybe you’re enjoying this end of the show.

And maybe, you finally want to see this game to completion.

“Just so you know,” Jungkook purrs into the shell of your ear, leaving you wondering when he moved so close, “I think about your slick on my cock a lot.”

The desperation in your countenance is so visible, it’s pathetic. You wait in silence for the next question, eager to jump to the finale, but the path to the end is far too enjoyable to skip.

“Do you want to continue where we left off?”

“No.” Your answer is straight, to the point, no embellishments.

Instead, you let your hands do the talking.

In one smooth action, you unzip your skirt and pull it down, without a prompt from the dastard ogling at you. Every move you make, you feel his stare burn into your skin, countering the chilly air filling the room. You sit back with your legs tightly closed – not out of any false sense of modesty, that has never been your strong suit – but the unceasing throbbing of your clit needs temporary relief or else it will jump out and land into his mouth.

The distance between you two has steeply decreased, and you can’t tell who’s at fault anymore. In any case, this proximity is most welcome, as per the anticipatory goosebumps that decorate your skin. Swirling his yet-unfinished drink in his hand, ice cubes clattering against each other, Jungkook takes your exposed legs in that are only barricaded by your pantyhose. It’s not the best material – you’ve been wearing the same one for a week now, displaying many scratches and tears – but Jungkook’s eyes don’t even seem to register it.

But what is with this speed? He is fully intent on making every second of your horny existence miserable. In a desperate attempt to get a fraction of his touch, you bring your leg up – making the move as slow and deliberate as possible – landing it on his thigh. The best begging you can do without actually voicing it out.

Jungkook, however, is a man of many talents – ignoring your direct needs being a prime one. After a light sip, he brings his glass down to your leg, the bottom rim touching under your toe – and you hiss at the ice-cold feeling that spreads across your foot, as the condensate spreads its influence.

“I have so many questions for you…” Jungkook whispers to you, watching you twitch, “but I’m having too much fun right now.”

Just when you begin to ask whether his dictionary reads ‘fun’ differently, he drags his cold glass upward, painfully slow, traversing your foot, then along your shin bone, letting the precipitate draw a path of icy chill on the map of your body. Meeting your eyes to just plant a cheeky wink into your brain, he continues forging ahead – until he can reach mid-thigh. He stops there long enough to hear you hiss – only then do you feel the glass move away.

If you weren’t already panting, you are now. Very audibly so. It is all you can hear in the room, in fact.

That is, of course, until Jungkook assaults all your senses by dragging you awfully close to him, extracting a gasp from you – his grip on your thigh is tighter than the band in your stomach begging for a release, and you relish the feeling.

“Do you, want me,” he says into the miniscule space that’s left between your lips, “to kiss you right now?”

You can’t decide what demands your spotlight; is it his gaze boring holes into your skin, or his lips that are now glistening deliciously?

“No.”

“Hmmn,” Jungkook turns away from you, and you almost rise in alarm – until you register his next actions, “thought so.”

One second to completely sip all of his whiskey. Another second for his lips to land on yours.

Finally.

The fantasies of this night blend into reality, and instead of doing the rational thing – thinking why you ended up like this – you give into the kiss.

Not only does he kiss you hard, like the future of his world depends on it, he also pushes in his undrunk whiskey into your eager mouth. The liquid swirls between the colliding tongues, some leaking out of the corners of your mouth – the rest coating the insides of your cheeks with a lush, rich and robust flavour – flavours that didn’t pop when you drank it from your own damn glass.

You kiss until the whiskey gets drunk – by whom, is a mystery – and before you can tend to the stray drops down your face, Jungkook’s hand grabs your chin to keep you still.

God, your last kiss was nothing like this. The blood buzzing in your ears is thunderous, reacting to the contradiction between the soft, tender kisses exchanged all those years ago, and the jagged, raw conquering of your lips happening right now. Your roughened lips burn under the remnants of alcohol, but it’s nothing compared to the searing you feel when Jungkook lets his tongue languidly glide against your gnawed skin.

“Now, since it was the wrong answer…” He husks, his fingers moving inward, closer and closer until they land just below your collar, “I have no choice but to—”

One mighty sharp tug – and all the buttons of your shirt have popped, flying all around the two of you. His hands, still clutching the buttonless seams of your shirt, harshly pull you back into him. Lips firmly sealed back onto yours, he sends his hand roaming.

“This is what you needed that night, eh?” With one hand back to digging in your jaw, he mouths the words into your cleavage, teeth digging deep into whatever they can grab, “Sweet boys just don’t cut it for you.” He moves up to the nook of your neck, his other hand slotting between your thighs, “For all the attitude you had back then, all you want then is to be treated like a street slut. And you’re still the same. Whores don’t change.”

Rude boys are still your standard, and Jungkook has become just that.

“Ow—fuck, don’t leave mar–marks, man,” you attempt an angrier voice while avoiding his truth bomb – because yes, aren’t you knocked out, over the moon right now? The voice that emanates is feeble, with no brawn to be found.

He too, doesn’t pay you any heed – teeth tugging the flesh in his clamp until he can hear you hiss, then letting it go, letting his tongue soothe the sting.

“You can pretend to hate it,” he sneers at you, his low tone whisper sending shivers like a snowy night, “your lips can lie, but your body? From the moment you walked in, I know your pussy’s been screaming to be filled. Just thank your stars I’m generous, huh?”

You’re drunk. On just two fingers of whiskey? That can’t be it. Definitely, it’s the heady concoction of the alcohol and Jungkook’s very able hands – one of which is enjoying the feel of your perking nipple.

While one hand goes back up to roughly dig into your neck, the confines of your throat feeling the heat of his lust, his other arm wraps holds your back, making sure you don’t lean too back and lose your balance. It’s sweet.

What’s not sweet, however, is how long this is taking.

He pushes you until you’re balancing your head on the armrest, with one knee digging into the cushion beside you, the other firmly planted on the carpeted floor. Within a wink of an eye, he’s moved down – and you feel his tongue play over your bra, teasing your nipples, reminding you of a forgotten (but not really) past – a harsh suckle under your boob releases the trapped moan, but it sounds battered; perfectly showcasing your state of mind.

“How about this,” he whispers, looking up from his actions, “you think I can get you to come without taking anything else off?”

Do you have the mental fortitude to deal with the consequences of your bratty answer?

“No.”

The fingers fiddling with your bra hooks halt – instead, he descends onto your clothed breast, biting over the fabric, fully knowing that your sensitivity was through the roof. You cuss and moan, growing frustration urging for more, but you do not beg.

“Funny how life changes,” he coos, shifting attention from one boob to the other, “today you’re the one tied down. And lucky for you,” with not a hint of weariness in his voice, “I don’t have to be anywhere, anytime soon.”

No ties, no ropes, no chains – hell, not even that overworn, oversized tee of his – and he’s still so right about it. Not a part of you wishes to move away, your pathetic self just wrapped around his agile fingers.

Said fingers now hold your cheeks, squeezing until your quivering lips give an opening – and he drops a ball of spit right over. You lay there, entranced, taking what he has to give, your writhing less prominent now. Anything that falls outside the outline of your lips is gathered by his thumb, massaged over your mouth, then inserted for you to suck to your heart’s content. Which you do.

“You’ve shanghed sho mush,” you speak past his thumb; he definitely doesn’t try to make it easier on you, pushing his digit further inside, putting your tongue through a test of endurance.

“So have you,” is his simple response, dragging his wettened thumb across your cheek.

“Not as much as you, for sure.”

“I don’t think the mouthy bitch years ago would suck spit off of my thumb.”

“You don’t know that.” With his eyes widening ever so slightly, you continue, “But surely, the geek from years ago wouldn’t have spit in my mouth in the first place.”

“You don’t know that either.”

Just when you think you’re done seeing stars with the roof on, Jungkook hooks the band of your bra in his teeth – like the primitive animal that he is – and pulls at it, just to let it snap back at your skin. The unannounced action makes you squeal, even though it didn’t really hurt – he’s got your body so alive, a feather could hurt you if he wielded it.

With the odd, oafish position of yours; one leg on the couch, the other hanging off loose, head balanced precariously on the armrest with your arms dutifully out of his way – you try to get him where you need him, knee nudging his thigh while your hips wriggle under an invisible spell. Finally, he acquiesces, settling down at the couch with your legs unwrapped on either side for his viewing pleasure. His palms squeeze the flesh of your thighs, a small tsk falling off his lips at the touch of your pantyhose.

“Tearing doesn’t count as taking off, right?”

“What?”

You don’t get a response – not in words, atleast. The loud rip that follows is the only answer he graces you with, your worn down pantyhose having its last wear forever. But his easy access only brings you gratitude when two fingers enter the tear in a split second, pushing your underwear inside your sopping core.

“Mmmhh—Fuck!”

Jungkook just laughs at your helpless body writhing beyond control as he explores everything he didn’t have a chance to before. Fingers travelling down, then up, inside, then outside, around and about – everything, only egging you further on.

“After all these years…” Jungkook purrs, not directly to you, eyes only connected to the juncture of your thighs, “you deserve a good fucking. What should I do, huh? Should I make you come, then drop off the face of the earth?” His tongue swipes the length of your crevice, sending shudders down your thighs. “Or should I spend this whole night doing all the things I’ve been meaning to? Cover you in my jizz and parade you across the office? Show everyone what an excellent tutor you were, and your very innovative teaching methods.”

Your brain has no filter when exposed to the horny, and his last words made it do just that – you latch onto whatever words best serve your purpose.

“You–you’ve been meaning… To?”

“Meaning to fuck you against every possible surface of this room,” is what Jungkook says, but with his fingers entering your cunt and exploring about, you don’t register anything. “As a thank you, you know? Meaning to see you fall apart on my fingers, just like this—” He pushes in hard, your pussy throbbing around his digits. “Meaning to cum inside you, over and over again, and have you crawl around this space, dripping everywhere while I sit and watch your sullied body prepare itself to take more.”

Well, the last one is oddly specific. Even more odd is how much more aroused the thought makes you.

“Wow, umm—w–well—” Swallowing the wad of spit accumulating in your throat, you offer, “Since you clearl–ooh, clearly, know how to make me come,” you look him in the eye, tears of desire pooling in the corners of your eyes, “so fucking do it. S–Stop playing around.”

“But with a plaything as sweet as you,” he moves to kiss your clothed pussy, his fingers still playing imaginary music inside your walls, “with a toy as slutty as you,” another kiss, so delicate it hurts you, “hard to not play around.”

Hands unfettered from the mental shackles that Jungkook put on you, you pull him back up to you, lips smushing together once again – your other hand wraps around his wrist, grinding onto whatever surface his palm offers, using him like a glorified sex toy. He grunts hard into you, a vague attempt made at bringing you back under control, but your tongue is beguiling, and he stays under your hold.

Until he isn’t.

“A—w—fuck!”

Jungkook’s sadistic streak continues when he frees his wrist from your clutches, and smacks your clit once, twice, thrice – in quick succession. Your nub would buzz if it could, and a string of expletives release from you when he does it again – this time, with a greater backswing.

With a sharp tug to his still-on blazer, you pull him up. “Fucker,” you sputter, making your first and last request of the night, in a desperate attempt to get the ball rolling, “let me suck your dick.” Your hands already flounder around his crotch, until he pulls them away, back to their previous confinement. In the background, you can hear his belt jingle; but all you can see is his arresting face.

A deep-throated laugh emerges from him, “Wasn’t last time enough?” He coos at your cock-hungry plea, pushing you back down and fiddling with your legs. “Next time, okay?”

“Next ti—uungghh!”

Barely able to complete your showcase of surprise, because this is the way he announces his acceptance – he pushes into your core, without warning, but he receives a warm welcome in the walls of your pussy.

“We have a lot,” he emphasises with a thrust, “a lot of work to do, don’t we?” He pulls out just enough to leave you whining, then pushes back in with a grunt of satisfaction; his moves are calculated enough to leave you wanting while maverick enough to leave your spine tingling. “And a lot of catching up as well.” He hovers over you after positioning you better, both of your bodies lying along the length of the couch, before getting right back into your gushing entrance.

One particular thrust has you arching up, the shock of pleasure stagnating in your body for a hot second, making your head lag and voice wane. Jungkook sheaths himself completely, before slotting his face in the nook of your neck, heavy breaths licking at your heated skin. Not one to miss an opportunity, you take the lobe of his ear between your lips, letting your teeth graze over the skin.

“Mmmh, yes,” he keens, tilting into your touch, “make it hurt, baby.”

Whether it is the words he uttered, or the way his whisper travels down to your cunt, you dig your teeth into the flesh, immediately rewarded with a mouthwatering flurry of cusses stuttered into your neck.

“It’s,” Jungkook pulls out of you in an instant, turning you around by your waist, “not,” he pushes your head back onto the headrest, your cheek bulging as you try to get a look at him, “enough.”

And the way he slams back into you, you feel your soul fight your body to escape. You mewl into the deathly quiet, his dogged jackhammering hurtling you towards your most awaited high of the day – hell, the most awaited all these years. He pistons into you, covering every inch of your skin in a sea of flames. Your orgasm finds you like a river in spate, gushing through its path, fighting boulders in its wake, carving its way through your entire body.

Sounds of the room start feeling like echoes, slapping balls, grunty exhales, a weirdly long cloth rip that does not belong – but your ears are ringing, your mouth is drooling, and your brain is ready to shut down. Being jostled like a muppet feels like home, and you only start waking up when spurts of liquid coat all of your ass, thighs, and slit.

In true asshole fashion, Jungkook tore all of your pantyhose, fabric loosely hanging on the sides, seams split until all of your ass and thighs were open for his pleasure.

In truer asshole fashion, Jungkook left you a mess, cum trickling down your glutes, pooling at the bend of your knee.

And in truest asshole fashion, he is wiping his unsullied fingers clean, without a second thought about your current dishevelled disposition.

Ugh. You love to put yourself in a position you can’t get out of.

How the fuck will you get home? This jerk won’t give you a ride.

Also, none of your bones work.

You lay your head on the armrest, finding feasible ways out of this situation. It's going to be nice riding the bus with dried cum itching your ass. There must be a washroom in this boujee office, of course. You finally gather the strength to raise your head and look for one – but interception comes sharp and swift.

“Already done, huh?” Jungkook’s fingers press into the nape of your neck, pushing you back down, your tendons feeling the pressure of his stronghold.

“I—” You stutter and stumble again, just like the start of the night, “I thought we—”

“Don’t you remember?”

“What?”

“Hmmmn,” he sponges kisses over your clothed back, making his way downward, “stupid girl said I couldn’t make her come without taking anything off.”

Ah.

Stupid girl did say that.

Stupid girl also has her speaking right revoked right now, because Jungkook is collecting the half-dried cum on your ass with his tongue, awakening your dying senses once again. His final move is a start to the next chapter of your night, as he pushes his tongue into your velvet heat, depositing the cum where it belongs.

“Guess we keep playing, huh?”

Thank you for making it to the end! For more of my writing, find my masterlist here. As always, thoughts and feedbacks are greatly appreciated!

#bts #bts fanfic #networkbangtan #bts fanfiction #bts smut #jjk smut #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #btshoneyhive #btscarnivalnet #thebtswritersclub #jungkook x reader #jeongguk smut #bts imagines #bts fic #jeongguk fanfic #jungkook #jeon jungkook

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redtsundere-writes · 5 days

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Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen

Part 14. Champion

Beginning. ← Previous |

Sypnosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Yuuji, Choso and Sukuna are brothers. Some characters are out of character. Warnings: Cursed words, I only read it once. Word Count: 9322 words (a long boy) Author's Note: So the final chapter is here. This has been a wonderful journey. Like I said in my last post, I'll edit the shit out of this, but I knew this was going to happen either way. I want to thank @elgonki for helping me edit this chapter.

"Faster!" Geto ordered me from the side of the ring.

"Just do it!" Nobara encouraged me to continue.

I kicked the pad that was at Nobara's chest with increasing force and speed. My legs wanted to give up, but I was going to let them. Nobara held the pad as tight as she could to keep it from being pushed with each impact.

Despite the distance, Nobara was always the first to hear the news of my life. She was the first to find out about my neck diagnosis, that I became a trainer, and that the king of the ring had hired me. She was the one who helped me when I needed it most. When Naoya happened, she traveled to Kyoto to give me a hug. I always tried to invite her to eat or drink something after training to thank her for her unconditional support.

It was great to have my old life back. Waking up at 7 in the morning to go for a run, going to the gym to exercise, getting into the ring to train with the other girls and teaching jiujitsu classes to the children in the afternoon. The only thing that had changed for the better was that now I had a nice boyfriend who supported me in everything.

"I brought lunch," Choso announced his presence at the ringside while holding a plastic bag with two salads. I pulled myself away from Nobara to greet my boyfriend.

"Let's take a rest," Nobara suggested with a smile. I got out of the ring and gave my boyfriend a big sweaty hug.

"You smell like you work hard," he joked before planting a kiss on my head.

"You are right. The fight against Maki Zenin is in less than a week. I must be in my best shape to take back what belongs to me,” I told him excitedly.

Mei Mei's office was very different from Nanami's. While Nanami's looked like a lawyer's office that drinks old fashions and smokes good cigars, MeiMei's office was very minimalist and functional. The bone walls contrasted with the black desk and silver electronics. Choso and I were sitting on the white sofa that was placed in front of a small plasma television. We talked about our days while we ate. The green salad with chicken that Choso had brought me reminded me of the meals I used to make for Sukuna from time to time when I lived with him. What I missed about being a trainer was being able to eat anything without having the pressure to gain weight.

“The UFC 300 fight card comes with a bang, as it will be a double championship night!” The host of a sports news program enthusiastically announced to a panel of experts.

“That's right! First, we’ll see The Snake de Medusa versus The Fury. Will The Snake be able to regain her title after her injury?” One of the drivers asked openly to the table to start the debate.

“Are you nervous?” Choso asked me, leaving his empty plate on the glass table.

“A lot, but I'll just get into the octagon, I'll do what I have to do, and I'll take down Maki no matter what,” I answered excitedly.

“That's my girl,” Choso proudly placed a warm kiss on my cheek.

In the time we have been together, my relationship with Choso has been the most beautiful and healthy one I have ever had in my life. He always cares about me, cooks for me and supports me in all my decisions. We had less than 3 months living together, and I still maintained the same opinion I had of him. It was a pleasure to wake up next to him every morning, do housework together and make love in the shower from time to time. I loved doing everything together with him.

“I made you a green juice before I came here,” he said handing me one of my reusable bottles I had at home. I hated green juice, but I had to drink it for my own good.

“Yuta Okkotsu was to face Toge Inumaki for the middleweight belt, but Inumaki suffered an injury that will prevent the fight from taking place. Do they already know who his replacement will be?” One of the commentators asked with curiosity.

Yuta and Toge have always been friendly rivals. Outside the UFC they are almost always seen together at events and parties, but once they get in the ring, they are ready to kill each other. That energy of brotherhood and competitiveness makes their fights even more entertaining and among the bestsellers in the business. This rematch had been announced for 3 months. It was a shame that shortly before the event, Inumaki could no longer participate. I wanted to see the fight too.

“It's a good thing you mentioned it, because we have exclusive news for Total Sport! Toge Inumaki's replacement will be no one more and no one less than Sukuna Ryomen!” At that name, I can't help but spit out the green juice.

“What?!” I yelled as I got up from the sofa.

“Just like that! Sukuna will finally go after a second title.”

My mouth dropped open in shock. Sukuna and I would be at the same event! What wonderful news! After I moved to Nagoya, Sukuna hardly ever gave me any sign of life. He would either leave me on read or answer my messages weeks later. I sent hundreds of emails to Nanami to schedule a training session together, but I never received a reply. Every time Choso took me to one of his family events, I expected to see him there, in his fancy suit and expensive sunglasses. Unfortunately, Yuuji would always arrive alone and tell me that Sukuna was busy. It was frustrating to get in touch with him, but at last we would see each other again.

“I'll get to see Sukuna fight live again, what a thrill!” I squealed in excitement as Choso wiped up the mess I had made with a napkin.

“Are you that excited to see him?” I asked dryly.

“Of course I am. I was his coach for a year, and he improved so much in such a short time. I want to see how much he has improved without me,” I answered wistfully.

As much as I loved being back as a fighter, sometimes I liked to remember when I was his coach. The time when I could coexist in the mixed martial arts world and I didn't get hurt often. The best of both worlds. Even though I had my peace of mind, I missed Sukuna making me angry, laughing or crying with joy.

“Do you miss him that much?” Choso asked me out of the blue, avoiding my gaze completely.

“A little. It's just that it's been so long since I last saw him that I'm excited to see how he's doing,” I answered as I sat back down on the couch.

It had been a year since we last saw each other. When we said goodbye after leaving his penthouse, I didn't think it would take me that long to see him again. If I was already excited to return to the octagon for my title, now I was happy to know that Sukuna would see me fight live for the first time. A smile crept onto my face at the idea.

After a heavy week of training until exhaustion, a diet based on chicken breast and study sessions on Maki, we finally arrived at the mythical land where all addictions are connected. Traveling to Las Vegas was always a pleasure. Nobara was excited to travel with me to a new place, Mei Mei was on the phone, and Suguru and I were constantly talking about the fight.

"You better not disappoint us." Suguru joked as the entire team and I headed to the UFC center for the official weigh-in in a family van.

"She will never let us down! She is the strongest fighter there is!” Nobara defended me.

"I’ll give my best," I said in an attempt to stop the fight along with a smile.

I looked at Choso, who had a sad look and hardly spoke during the trip. I tried to ask him what was wrong, but there wasn't a time when we were private enough to ask him. Maybe it was because the last time he was here was when he “found his ex-fiancée with his brother.” I tried to cheer him up several times by telling him that we would go for a drink after the fight and then to the casino, but I couldn't.

The official weigh-in went well. I showed up in front of my old rival Maki and the rest of the disgusting Zenin. I wanted to tell them to go to hell, but I maintained my professionalism. After all, my problem wasn't with Maki, but with her disgusting cousin. After the fight rules were read to us, we returned to the hotel for the exhibition weigh-in. Nobara and Mei Mei did my hair, and they retouched my light makeup to get me camera ready. Upon arriving at the hotel, an insane amount of reporters appeared out of nowhere. I smiled for the cameras, but without losing sight of the entrance. An assistant guided us to a hallway so we could wait there for them to call us for the press conference.

"You look pretty," Choso flattered me with a smile.

"Thank you. I hope you don't ask me offensive questions…” My eyes interrupted what I was going to say as soon as I saw that large figure that I hadn't seen a year ago.

His hair was longer than he remembered, and his features were thinner from having to have lost 5 kilos at once for the fight to take place. He walked alongside the Black Team with their respective jacket and black over-ear headphones. Our eyes connected and something in my mind clicked. I smiled instantly and ran up to him to receive him.

"Sukuna!" I greeted him excitedly with my arms outstretched, waiting for a warm hug.

But I didn't receive a hug, not even a greeting, a “fuck you” would have hurt less. He just ignored me and avoided me like I was the plague in person. My smile fell as I realized the reality. He who had ignored me felt like a bucket of cold water had been thrown in my face. What had I done wrong? Why was he acting like this after everything we went through? Seeing his back walking away from me made my heart feel heavier than normal.

"Do not take it personally," Yuuji told me, approaching me. "He's only angry because he's hungry. He hasn't eaten anything since yesterday to reach the official weight.” My friend had dark circles under his eyes and he didn't smile as usual. He looked worse than Nanami on tax day.

"I see…" It was the only thing I could say without sounding disappointed.

"He's even an idiot when his stomach is full, they should be used to it by now," Uraume commented as they approached us. I greeted them after years of not seeing each other, happy that they was with Team Black.

"Yes, that's definitely Sukuna." Choso commented, joining the conversation as he put his arm around my shoulders.

"If he's not upset with something, he's not Sukuna." Yuuji tried to joke, but he couldn't even laugh. You could tell that Sukuna had been using him as his personal punching bag for the past few days.

The younger pink-haired boy began to tell us about the hell it had been to train with his older brother in recent days, while Choso hugged me by the shoulders. I looked askance behind me. Gojo and Nanami were talking to Sukuna, surely they were reminding him what not to say in the interview. His eyes met mine again for a second, but out of pride, I returned my gaze to the conversation I was in. I sighed in an attempt to ease my poor heart.

The press conference with Maki's team had also gone well. We maintained respect while the clear competitiveness could be seen from miles away. That day I spent warming up and training in the hotel gym, preparing myself mentally for the fight. Although now my problem was not with Maki, but with Sukuna. I understand that he was angry, but he doesn't ignore people just because. It's not like he ignored me by accident because he saw me, he saw my eyes. I am sure of it.

Night fell quickly. After a good training session with Geto and a good dinner that relieved my hungry stomach. Choso and I headed to the suite the UFC had paid for us. My body was so tired that once it hit the bed, it didn't want to get up. Despite my fatigue, I was not sleepy. The memory of Sukuna ignoring me ate me alive, I needed answers, but I had no way to get them.

Choso took off my shoes and lay down next to me. He wrapped his arms around me and buried his face in the crook of my neck. His breathing was soft and rhythmic. I stroked her hair as I looked at the ceiling that had a hint of glitter. The lights of bright Las Vegas peeked out the window in a dance between blues and greens. I lay on my side to hug Choso fully and give him a soft kiss on the lips. I moved a little away from his face to see him better. My finger pushed his raven hair to the side to see his eyes, but they were closed.

"Are you tired?" I whispered to him.

"A bit," Choso answered. "It's just been a long day," he said before pulling me towards him so he could lay on my chest.

I sighed upon hearing that response. More than tired, he looked discouraged. I wish I knew how to cheer him up, but I didn't. The only thing I could do was hold him close to me and stroke his hair, brushing it between my fingers. My hands slowly lowered to his back. I ran my fingertips along his shoulder blades and down his spine. Something that used to feel warm and welcoming now felt cold and distant. What was going on?

I could barely sleep. I opened and closed my eyes every two hours because anxiety was eating me alive. Between my championship fight and the strange behavior of the Itadori brothers, my mind couldn't calm down. My theories ran back and forth trying to give a reasonable answer to the situation. I reluctantly opened my eyes and noticed the time. It was 6 o'clock, an hour before the alarm would ring to go out for a run. Choso was on the other side of the bed. It shouldn't bother you.

Since I was alone, I headed to the hotel gym to use the treadmills. What I didn't expect was to see that Team Black coming out of the reception. “I forgot he also runs at this time,” I thought excitedly. This was my chance to ask him if everything was okay between us. I ran out of the hotel to catch up with them. Yuuji, Gojo, and Sukuna were warming up on the sidewalk to begin their morning run down the sidewalk. The champion was wearing his headphones like the day before.

"Good morning, guys!" I waved to the team as I approached.

"Good morning, and Choso?" Yuuji asked me curiously.

"Asleep. It's still very early for him,” Explain with a smile so they wouldn’t get worry. "Are you going for a run? Can I go? I asked excitedly.

"I don't think it's a good idea," Gojo intercepted me.

"I don't think Sukuna would mind, it's not like we haven't done it before, right?" I completely ignored his warning.

I approached Sukuna, who looked more intimidating than usual. Almost nothing had changed about his appearance, but his vibe was very different from the last time I saw him. What the fuck was happening? He looked at me getting closer to him, now I couldn't ignore me. He didn't greet me or take off his headphones to greet me.

"Hello! Can I join?!" I yelled at him so he could hear me even though he had his headphones on.

He looked at me from head to toe with disdain as if I were scum and turned to run away. I was frozen and with my mouth open. He's blatantly ignoring me! My mind couldn't understand why I was doing it. Did I do something wrong? Do I smell bad? Do you have amnesia and don't recognize me? What the hell is wrong with him?

"Sorry, see you later," Yuuji told me, giving me an encouraging pat on the shoulder, before following his brother and Gojo.

I smiled offended as I saw Sukuna running away. After a year together, was he going to pretend I didn't exist? I couldn't allow it. I wasn't going to let him make fun of me. I couldn't let the king of assholes straight up ignore me like that. If he could go back to how it was before, me too and it would be worse this time.

I ran after them. My feet moved before my mind could decide on a plan. He ran with all the frustration he had stored up since yesterday. In less time than I thought, I passed Yuuji and Gojo to reach Sukuna. I grabbed his headphones and ripped them off his head. I threw his precious headphones with all my might into the street, getting lost in the traffic. I smiled satisfied at my mischief.

"Hey! What the hell is wrong with you?!” Sukuna yelled at me in annoyance before walking steadily towards me.

"Am I no longer invisible?" I asked, backing away from him.

Sukuna stopped as soon as he realized why he had done it. I thought he would yell at me more, call me some ridiculous nickname, or tell me to stop bothering him, but I got nothing from him. Absolutely nothing. He just looked at me like he pitied me. That had been a direct stab to my ego.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" I exclaimed, annoyed, but he didn't tell me anything else.

He just looked at me with those dark eyes. Those eyes that used to look at me with anger, mockery, and sometimes desire. There was nothing behind them anymore. There was only one Sukuna who didn't care at all. An urge to cry invaded me, but I held it back.

"Forget it, I don't want to talk to the king of assholes anyway,” I blurted out, continuing my run by myself.

I ran and ran. My feet were already used to this, but this time they felt heavier. I couldn't give up, I had to continue until I reached the hotel again. I wanted to escape from that empty look. I could run all I wanted, but that memory was faster than me. Sukuna looking into my eyes as if I didn't exist for him. A pain invaded my ribs.

I went to a wall to rest, so the horse pain would go away. I bit my lower lip to stop the inevitable. A row of tears emerged from my eyes uncontrollably. I tried to wipe them away with the back of my hand, but they kept appearing. I crouched forward so no one would see me in my most vulnerable state. “Why do I care so much?” I questioned myself confused.

After getting all my tears out, I looked for my phone in my pants to call a taxi. I was not in the mood to continue my journey to the hotel. Only my phone wasn't there. “Ah, shit… I left it in the suite,” I thought, annoyed with myself for forgetting it. No way, I would have to run back to the hotel.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, I breathed a sigh of relief to finally have reached the floor of my suite. I headed towards my door, but I heard terrible door knocks. I paused, debating whether I should check out what it was about or not. Although this was no longer safe Japan, this was wild Las Vegas. I headed back towards my door until I heard…

"Sukuna! Open the hell up! I know you're there! Choso shouted at the top of his lungs.

I turned back to see what was happening. Choso was pounding on the door of the master suite with both clenched fists. He acted like a lunatic desperate for attention. This was the first time I had seen him do something like that.

"What are you doing?" I asked him confused. He turned to me and looked at me like I was a ghost.

"There you are," He approached me, clearly upset. "Where the hell were you?!" He yelled at me.

Choso had never yelled at me like that before. My eyebrow raised at his strange attitude. My ego had been bruised enough today, I didn't need my boyfriend to jump on the boat too. What the hell was happening to everyone?!

"I went out to run…". I answered confused.

"Do not lie to me!". Choso yelled in my face.

"I'm not lying to you, you can ask Yuuji or Sukuna!" I yelled, offended. Choso clicked his tongue offended.

"So you were with him…" He muttered angrily.

"I found him at the reception". I defended myself. "Nothing happened".

"Oh yeah?" He rolled his eyes, he didn't believe me at all.

"Yeah! Why are you treating me like I've done something wrong?!” I exclaimed annoyed, getting down to his level.

"Because you tricked me, Yuki!" Choso barked angrily.

My eyes widened when I heard that. His eyes also widened as he realized what he had said. My world was falling apart in a single morning. I took a couple of steps back to get away from him while a knot formed in my throat.

"I'm sorry, I did not mean that," He tried to apologize. "You know this place brings back bad memories of what happened."

"I'm not like her," I muttered, annoyed.

"Of course not," He tried to take my hand, but I jerked out of his grasp.

"I would never use Sukuna for money!" I exclaimed, annoyed. "I wouldn't hurt others for my own benefit!" Choso looked at me shocked, as if I had said something bad about his mother.

"Do not tell me that…". He tried to say from the impression. "Don't tell me you believed that absurd story about what he wanted to use to get into the UFC."

"Yes, I do believe him."

"I can't believe you were so stupid."

Before I thought, my hand was already flying towards his cheek. It hit her in a clean impact that turned her face. He wasn't going to call me that to my face, ever. I wasn't going to tolerate another man treating me like trash. Choso looked at me surprised that I had the courage to hit him.

"Of course I'm going to believe him when the same bitch confirmed it." I declared.

"What?! Did you meet her?! Where?!" He asked me perplexed.

"You would know if you saw Sukuna's fights," I barked as I turned around. "You don't need to come to training today," I asked before going back to my suite.

Choso tried to follow me to reconsider, but I just slammed the door in his face. I entered the main room, tired, ashamed and exhausted. Everything had happened too quickly and without logical explanation. I looked for my phone and headphones on the nightstand. I unlock my phone to listen to music and the first thing I see is the photo I took with Choso when we moved into our nice apartment. A tear fell on the screen, preventing me from entering my password.

Choso had just thrown our entire relationship down the drain. That loving and attentive Choso disintegrated into the air like dust. The only thing I had left were its annoying ashes that I would have to sweep up later. First there was Sukuna ignoring and now Choso confusing me with a woman I hate. I curled up in bed to cry comfortably. I put on the first sad song that came across my playlist to cry to. I only had an hour before training, and I wasn't going to waste it. Soon I submerged on my own tears and snot. I fought against my own nose to breathe again through the mess. I had to get everything I felt in my chest to be able to put up a good fight.

The night fell slower than I would have preferred. Nobara, seeing me with swollen and somewhat reddish eyes, asked me what had happened, but I told her that I didn't want to talk about it now. I had to focus on the fight. She was going to get in the ring, do what she had to do and come out as the champion. That was easy.

UFC 300 started with a bang. I watched each of the matches while warming up with Nobara in the small conditioning room they had given us to wait for my turn to fight. He gently tapped the pads at a good pace, fast and precise. I would lower my head when she tried to hit me. We danced in the small space we had to do so.

"I like that look," Geto told me while monitoring my training. "You look angry."

I was angry. Choso had not arrived at the event and doubted he would. There were 15 minutes left until my fight. I told him he shouldn't go to training, I didn't think he would also take my biggest fight as part of it.

"I have to go to the bathroom," I asked for a break as I left Nobara.

I looked terrible. My eyes were puffy from crying and my skin looked duller than usual. I would look terrible on camera, but there was nothing I could do about it. That's what happened to me for crying in the shower instead of bathing properly. I slapped myself in front of the mirror. “Concentrate, you can't let two assholes take you down easily.” I tried to cheer myself up and, in a way, I succeeded. “You're a badass.”

When I left the bathroom, I was going to go back to my room, but out of the corner of my eye I saw that dark hair that I knew so well. It was Choso, but he wasn't heading towards me. He didn't even see me. He continued walking down the hallway until he got lost in a corridor. I had to return to my living room, but my intuition begged me to follow him and that's exactly what I did. I was going to turn the same corner as him, until I heard his voice.

"What the fuck were you doing with my girlfriend in the morning?" He asked annoyed. That was enough of a sign for me to stay hidden. It broke my heart that Choso didn't believe me.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Sukuna's annoying voice echoed through the hallways. He had surely arrived at his conditioning room.

"She told me she was with you in the morning. Now answer the damn question,” Choso retorted, his tone becoming more aggressive with each word.

"We met at the hotel entrance. That was it," Sukuna answered.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure! She threw my headphones into traffic because I've been ignoring her like you asked!”

This couldn't be happening. Was Choso the reason for everything? Was Sukuna ignoring me, ghosting me, or avoiding me because of him? I covered my mouth so as not to sob out loud. I never thought Choso would be able to take me away from one of the most important people in my life, especially his brother. I never thought his insecurity would reach this level.

"Good". Choso muttered. "I believe you."

"You better believe me this time because I've been suffering for you, and you know it." Sukuna replied annoyed.

"It's not my fault she chose me over you." Now what the fuck were they talking about? "It's your karma."

"Is that so? Are you just using her to get back at me?” Sukuna asked him offended. Faced with silence, he spoke again. "Just tell me one thing, do you really love her or did you just want to take her away from me?"

"I like her. She's pretty.”

One year dating! One damn year dating and this son of a bitch only likes me! My tears of sadness turned to frustration. What stupid game had they put me into? Had every moment we'd spent together been a lie? A beautiful lie to keep me by your side? He had been making fun of me this whole time, and I wasn't going to let him have it. I clenched my fists in anger. I heard how they began to struggle between grunts and curses. It was hard to know what was going on because I was still hiding in the corner.

"She’s pretty?! That's it?! God, you're a big idiot!” Sukuna yelled, annoyed. "You have a renowned fighter, a wonderful person and the most beautiful woman as your girlfriend, and you only say that she is pretty?!"

A weak smile appeared on my face. I didn't know he looked at me that way. That statement felt like the calm in the eye of the hurricane. My confused tears came out for different reasons. Anger at Choso's selfishness and happiness at finally knowing what Sukuna really thought about me. My phone vibrated in my pocket, returning me to my reality. I took it out to read Nobara's message.

Bestie: Where are you? We should be at the entrance by now.

I wiped my tears with the sleeve of my sweatshirt before running off to my championship fight. She was unaware of the entire strange situation between Choso and Sukuna, but she was sure of one thing. I was going to kill that bitch.

SUKUNA POV

Since we were kids, Choso knew me better than anyone else. He knew when he was hungry, angry, or wanted to get into mischief just by looking at me. I never understood how he did it. It was like he could read my mind better than I could. That's why he was able to share me his cookies without me asking, he calmed me down when I needed it and took the bucket out of my hands when I wanted to dunk Yuuji in front of his friends. His strong intuition no longer surprised me. It wasn't until he realized I liked Y/n before I knew it.

"She’s pretty?! That's all?! God, you're a big idiot!” I yelled in his face. "You have a renowned fighter, a wonderful person and the most beautiful woman as your girlfriend, and you only say that she is pretty?!"

I had him cornered against the wall. It was the closest thing I could do without beating him to death. The last time I did that, it didn't go very well. I really thought he loved her the same way I did, but no, he just used her to hurt me. My fists were turning red from the force I was applying so that he couldn't slip out of my hands.

"Do you see what it feels like to have something taken away from you?" Choso asked me.

"She's not damn candy!" I exclaimed annoyed. "She's a woman who really loves you, and you're still thinking about your whore ex. Don't you realize how pathetic you sound?!"

"Hey, don't talk about Yuki like that!" Choso yelled back to me.

"And don't talk about Y/n as if she were a trophy!" I yelled at him, barely containing my anger. I was reaching for everything in my power not to knock him out again.

"She is! Finally, I have something that you don't!” He yelled in my face. "You always had everything, the best grades, the approval of our parents, the girls you wanted. Even the girls I liked, always they liked you! Yuki was the only one who really liked me back.”

“Y/n really likes you too.” I said before slamming him against the wall of anger. The door to my living room opened, Gojo's white head peeked out. I sighed and reluctantly let go of Choso.

"Y/n is already going to fight," he told me to return to the room.

"Shouldn't you be with her?" I asked him worried. He just avoided my gaze, ashamed. "Now what did you do?"

"It's already on!" Yuuji excitedly informed me from inside. Gojo asked me to come in with his eyes. I sighed exasperated, but ignored him. I pulled my little brother to come into the living room with me.

Hiss by Megan Thee Stallion echoed through the room as everyone settled in front of the television to watch the first championship fight of the night. She looked just as intimidating as she did in every fight, but this time she looked annoyed. I had seen her last fights, she always smiled confidently while fighting the air. This time, her smile had disappeared, and she just walked towards the octagon with a mean look. Her eyes looked reddish and lifeless. “What the fuck did you do to him?” I asked Choso telepathically. I didn't want to start another argument with Yuuji in the room.

Y/n took off her sweatshirt and revealed that body that drove me crazy. Her sports bra and those green 2-in-1 shorts they accentuated her figure beautifully. The referee checked her and gave her the go-ahead to enter the octagon. She walked around the place as if the entire place belonged to her. She stretched her limbs like an elegant panther ready to hunt.

It didn't take long for Maki to make her appearance, but I didn't care about her in the slightest. What surprised me was seeing the idiot Naoya behind her. Y/n probably knew this would happen, after all they are cousins, and they train in the same temple. This would only increase the pressure you feel.

The two fighters met in the ring. Finally, the moment Y/n had been waiting for for years had arrived. This would be the night she would reign in the octagon again. The referee repeated the rules to them and they both clashed gloves.

"Come on, Snake!" Yuuji exclaimed excitedly.

They both stepped back to start the fight. My eyes were on Y/n. “Come on, you can do it,” I thought, hoping to see an incredible fight. The bell rang, and she lunged at Maki without waiting another second, welcoming her with a Superman punch which made Maki step back. Team Black celebrated the small victory of the first blow euphorically.

Maki then lunged at her with equal force to try to take the fight to the ground. He took her arms to bring her closer to his body and threw her to the ground. Y/n resisted the attack well, but managed to take it to her advantage. She took advantage of the fact that she was holding her to use her thigh as a ladder to climb on top of her like a python. In one swift movement, she climbed over her to wrapped her powerful legs and strong arms around her arm. He slammed her to the ground using his own weight. The public went crazy when they saw a strong python strangling its poor prey. My eyes couldn't blink for fear of missing that live massacre.

Once on the ground, Y/n took advantage of the closeness to choke Maki with her leg. Zenin began to squirm to find a way out of the unexpected move. With her free opposite arm and her legs away from Y/n, she didn’t have any options. Her team was yelling incoherently at Maki in an attempt to help her, but there was nothing they could do. Y/n had already won with a perfect arm bar. After the referee saw that Maki could not escape in any way, he ended the fight so that she would not pass out from lack of air.

Team Black cheered euphoric. I already knew that she was a magnificent fighter. She had proved herself on again and again every time we trained together, but this time she had shined. She had proven once again that she was a dangerous woman that no one can mess with.

"Sometimes I forget that she could easily kill me," Choso told me.

"Only if you make her angry," I warned him.

END OF SUKUNA POV

"The Medusa Serpent defeated The Fury in 15 seconds! A personal record!”

I didn't know what happened or when it happened. I just blinked, and I was already choking Maki with my legs. Had won. She was the champion again. The Octagon belonged to me again, but I wasn't happy. I didn't feel the euphoria running through my body. My team jumped into the octagon to hug me and congratulate me on my victory. I smiled weakly. In the distance I saw Naoya scolding Maki for losing so embarrassingly. Even though the fight hadn't lasted long, my body felt tired.

"Y/n, The Medusa Serpent, Y/l/n, the new champion!". The host announced excitedly as soon as the referee raised my arm, granting me the victory.

Geto helped me put on the gold belt and lifted me onto his shoulders, so everyone could see me. I raised my arms in victory as everyone applauded me. This was what I wanted, this was what I had trained for for years, why did I still feel like shit?

"We all knew you would make it!" Nobara hugged me once we got off the octagon after they finished interviewing my coach and I.

"This is to celebrate! I made a reservation at The Chandelier,” Mei Mei announced, thrilled.

"Go ahead." I asked them tiredly. "I want to see Sukuna's fight."

"We'll wait for you in the room then." Nobara told me before hugging me. "Are you okay?" She whispered so no one could hear us. I just nodded so she wouldn't worry.

I went to the seat I had asked the UFC to set aside for me in the front row. People around shook my hand to congratulate me on my victory. I just thanked them and smiled kindly at them. I sank into the black seat as I listened to the loud music and watched the lights dance through the audience. While enjoying the view, I saw Choso running through the audience. You looked everywhere as if you were looking for something. I sank further into my seat hoping he would see me, but he did.

"Congratulations, beautiful!". He greeted me with a smile. “Bitch ass fake.”

"Thank you."

"Let's celebrate! You deserve it!" He exclaimed excitedly.

"I want to see Sukuna's fight." I said without getting up from my seat.

"We can watch it with the others at the bar," He tried to convince me, taking my hand.

"No, I want to see the fight live," I asked him.

He was going to tell me something more, maybe convince me more, but the light in the auditorium went out and Sukuna's song began to boom from the speakers. Making the audience go crazy. The host announced the second championship fight of the night. Sukuna entered the auditorium like the majestic fighter that he is. The crowd around went crazy just seeing him live. I forced Choso to sit next to me so we could watch the fight together.

Sukuna climbed into the ring and walked around the perimeter of the ring, listening to the screams of his fans. Even though Yuta had entered the auditorium, he couldn't take his eyes off Sukuna. He looked better than ever. I missed seeing him through the fence. His strong body glowing under the white lights, his hair swinging from side to side as he warms up and his eyes watching me closely.

It didn't take long for the fight to start. Yuta lunged at Sukuna to hit him. Being smaller in stature, he was more volatile and flexible. His feet moved quickly to strike and defend with ease. Sukuna tried to catch him and hit him, but Yuta always escaped him. The king was engaging in an extreme game of whack-a-mole.

Until now, Yuta was the only one who had thrown punches so far. Sukuna tried to throw his best punches, but none of them managed to connect completely. His upper movements looked stiff and slower than usual.

"Come on, Sukuna. Stop playing." I whispered to myself.

The pace of the fight was guided by Yuta. He was the one moving, punching, kicking, it was like he was fighting against a steel wall. Sukuna tried to keep up with him, but his body was not up to it. He threw a punch, Yuta dodged it and landed a blow with his right shoulder. Sukuna's scream could be heard throughout the auditorium. I knew that cry very well. I stood up from my seat, like most of the audience, in an attempt to find out what was happening. Sukuna backed up to lean against the fence, holding his shoulder. Yuta took advantage of this to arrive and knock him out with a blow to the jaw. Sukuna fell like a sack of potatoes at that. The referee quickly arrived to assist him and declared the fight over. Shoko soon got into the octagon to check it out.

"Sukuna…" I whispered in shock, seeing him unconscious on the floor on the giant screen.

"Don't worry, he'll be fine." Choso told me.

"That scream was not normal," I said worriedly, stroking my neck when I remembered I was in Sukuna’s shoes.

"He just need to go to the doctor. Shoko will treat him and he will be fine,” He tried to calm me down again. "Let's get out of here, they are waiting for us to go celebrate,” He took my arm so we could leave.

"What kind of brother are you?!" Finally, I exploded in his face. Choso looked at me surprised. "Your brother is suffering on the ground, and you are thinking of celebrating?!".

"I only worry about you."

"No! You've never cared about me! You only care about yourself!” I yelled, furious. I didn't care who listened to me. I could not take it anymore.

"That's not true... You know I love you." Choso told me.

"Oh really?! And why didn't you tell Sukuna that?!” I didn't hit him again, but I did give him a verbal slap. "I'm not going to be your little consolation prize…"

"You are not," Choso interrupted me.

"Just stop lying!" I screamed tiredly. "It's over!"

"Y/n... Please, are you really going to choose him?" Choso wondered.

I was going to answer him, but I saw that the paramedics quickly arrived on the scene. This couldn't be happening. Not again. They put Sukuna on the stretcher and took him away from the chaos.

"I do…"

"What?"

"I do choose him, I should have done it from the beginning,” I answered firmly before dodging him.

I ran out to where they were taking him. Being a fighter, I had almost access to any part of the auditorium, so they let me pass. Escape the crowd to get backstage to the medical wing. Sukuna was still unconscious and with a mouthpiece in his face. My mind transported me back to 3 years ago, where I was the one on that cold stretcher and had no idea what I was going through having to tolerate the pain.

"Y/n!". Yuuji called me as he saw me with his teary eyes as we watched Sukuna being loaded into an ambulance. Once I hugged him, he collapsed in my arms. Gojo and Shoko got on into the ambulance with him and the paramedics closed the door behind them.

"What the hell happened to him?!" I demanded answers while holding Yuuji.

"Let's go to the hospital," Nanami told me without the intention of answering my question.

I stood watching the ambulance speed away with sirens blaring while my friend sobbed for his brother. I wanted to cry, but my eyes were already dry. I had already cried a lot that day, I had to hydrate myself.

Returning to the hospital gave me chills. The cold hallways, the people in a hurry and the strange clean smell. Being in the waiting room was no better. Being sad in a place surrounded by sad people only made my mood worse. We had already been here for two hours and the only thing they told us was that he needed emergency surgery for a throwing shoulder injury. A common injury among high-performance athletes is a tear due to stress on the shoulder.

"Congratulations," Gojo told me as he gave me a bottle of water to wake up from the trance.

"I'm not in the mood for congratulations," I said sincerely.

"It's not from me, it's from Sukuna." He clarified. "He watched the fight and was fascinated, you did a good job,” he told me before messing my hair.

The thought of Sukuna being proud of me calmed my tortured heart a little. Despite his coach’s good intentions, I wanted him to tell me himself. The door to the emergency room opened, and they called out to those who came to see Sukuna Ryomen.

"The surgery was a success. I already informed Shoko privately,” The doctor said. Yuuji and I sighed in relief.

"How long will it take to return to training? One, two years?” I asked excitedly. I didn't get a response. "Maybe three like me?" The emotion decreased with every word seeing that no one was excited by the news.

"When I said that the surgery was a success, I mean that he did not lose his shoulder and that he will be able to move it with a lot of rehabilitation, but not enough to return to the ring." The doctor explained.

"What?!" Yuuji and I exclaimed at the same time.

"But this is his first injury, right?!" I exclaimed, worried that we would be given the wrong diagnosis.

"Yes, but it was not treated on time. Sukuna completely refused to have the surgery because he would stop fighting for a couple of years,” Shoko answered.

"Since when?" I asked angrily. I clenched my fists to stop myself from screaming, but I couldn't. "Since when have he had that injury?!" I screamed.

"Two years ago," Nanami replied, avoiding my gaze, clearly ashamed.

Two years ago I was his coach. During that year, Sukuna was suffering and didn't tell me? This day I couldn't get any worse. First Sukuna ignored me, then Choso mistook me for his ex-fiancée. It also turns out that my boyfriend doesn't love me. Now Sukuna will never be able to fight again because an injury that I could possibly worsen with exercise routines was not treated.

"And why didn't you tell me?!". I screamed inconsolably. Now it was Yuuji's turn to hug me to calm me down. "How could you let him fight in that state, you fucking idiots?!" I cried out loud against his chest. The only response I received was Yuuji's sobs. Out of anger, I pushed him away from me. "Why are you crying?! You surely knew, and you didn't tell me anything, you fucking gossip!” I screamed from the deepest part in my chest.

"I didn't know! If I had known, I would have helped him!" He yelled back at me with teary eyes.

That made me calm down a little. I was getting out of control. I took a deep breath and analyzed the situation. How did Yuuji, who is by Sukuna's side 24/7, not know about this? Wait… Yes, I knew that, but not the truth.

"The thing is, he has… “Sessions” with the physiotherapist. You know what I mean?" I remembered when Yuuji secretly told me that Sukuna was sleeping with Shoko. Did Sukuna lie to his own brother so he wouldn't know about his shoulder back then?

"Shoko" I called her. She looked at me curiously. "How many times did you sleep with Sukuna?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" I am a lesbian," she answered with her eyebrow raised.

I was already tired of crying. All he could do was laugh at the ridiculous situation he was in. Sukuna was a huge idiot. A stubborn bastard who will do anything to be on top. Poor him… now he is on the slopes of the mountain while I am conquering him. Yes, you are the king of the assholes.

The nurse who was treating Sukuna left the room. I went ahead of everyone to go in first and close the door behind me. The others tried to open the door, but it was impossible from outside without a key. I approached the stretcher. He had a wet towel covering his sharp face. He had his arm posed with bandages and an angle where it wouldn't hurt further.

"You have 5 minutes to tell me the truth." I ordered bothers by removing the towel and throwing it across the room.

"Weren't you a pitcher in your past life?" He asked me sarcastically.

"Don't try to be a smart ass! Tell me the whole truth now! I know you've been hiding things from me since I've been your coach,” I ordered under my breath.

"I have a pitcher's shoulder injury and I didn't treat it because I didn't want to stop fighting. Happy?" He answered me dryly, without looking me in the eyes.

"What else?"

"There is nothing else," Sukuna lied to me.

"Please, Sukuna…" I begged him. "Do not do this to me. You know you've hidden other things from me. Just say it".

"How much do you know?" He asked me looking into my eyes.

"I know more things than you think."

"So if you already know, what's the point of me saying it?" Sukuna answered, closing his eyes and facing away. I squeezed the railing of the stretcher out of anger.

"So you're not going to tell me that you love me?" I asked offended. He turned to look at me faster than lightning, but he didn't say a single word. We stared at each other for a long while in silence.

"I'm not going to say that to my brother's girlfriend." He answered dryly.

"Who in their right mind would stay with an idiot who can't get over their ex?". He just looked at me surprised at that statement. "So say it… You have a free field." I asked him.

Sukuna just stared at me in disbelief, debating in his mind whether this was real or a test. Say it, say it, just say it for the love of God! Tell me you love me, tell me I'm special to you, tell me all the things you bravely said to Choso, but you're ashamed to tell me when I am in front of you. After a couple more seconds of silence, I decided to give up. It was okay that I wanted answers, but I wasn't going to beg him to give them to me.

"Fine. I won't bother you anymore, get well soon." I let go of the railing to get away from the situation.

As soon as I turned around, his hand took possession of my arm and returned me to my place, this time pulling me towards him. Our faces were inches apart. I could see his features in great detail. His tribal tattoos framing his face, his penetrating eyes, his straight nose and his full lips. He grabbed my sweatshirt to close the distance with a deep kiss that made me melt inside. That's when I realized why I missed being his trainer or watching him fight, actually, I missed him. Being close to him, spending time with him, kissing him. I felt complete and complete every time Sukuna took me as his.

"I love you…". He whispered into my lips. "I love you so much that I let you go because I thought you would be happier with someone like Choso," he explained as he caressed my cheeks with his fingers.

"What's the point of being happy if everything is a lie?". I asked him with a smile.

"But I'm a mess, dear," he warned me.

"If you're a mess, I'm a damn chaos." I replied before meeting our lips again.

His lips traveled over my mouth as if it were newly discovered terrain. Even though we had already done this behind everyone's back, it felt like it was the first time. I loved him, and I was no longer afraid to admit that that love that I thought I had buried deep in my soul was still there. Only this time he would do anything to stay by her side. We were both being consumed by the agony of wanting to be together. Sukuna pulled me by the waist with his free arm to lift me onto the stretcher with a strength I didn't think I would have in this situation, making me sit on top of him.

"We can't do it here. Everyone is outside,” I whispered to him.

"I just want you to stay close to me, you damn pervert," He said with a mischievous smile. My face blushed with embarrassment.

I lay on his chest, on the side that wouldn't bother his injured shoulder. He drew imaginary circles on his chest as he told me everything he already knew. That Choso asked him to stay away from me so that she could trust him again. That he had lied to Yuuji about sleeping with Shoko so that no one would find out about his injury for fear of it becoming news. That he had hidden his feelings towards me, and he never thought that his feelings were reciprocated.

"And why did you lose the fight? What happened to your good luck ritual? I asked him confused.

"It hasn't worked since my fight with Aoi Todo." He answered with a smile just for me. That meant that all this time he had been fighting without luck on his side. "No one satisfies me like you." He purred against my cheek.

I smiled flattered by that strong statement. I snuggled closer to his strong chest and slipped my hand into his robe to caress his bare skin. My body felt light with each passing second and each time he brushed my hair between his fingers. It had been such a long day and I needed a break.

SUKUNA POV

Even though Yuta Okkotsu massacred me in the octagon, having her in my arms made me feel like I was still the champion. Little by little she fell asleep. I was sure my arm would fall asleep, but I didn't care at all. His warmth made me feel more alive than ever, and I never wanted him to leave me again.

I heard the living room door open. Yuuji was going to shout something, but I silenced him from my place. The rest of the team came in behind him to ask me how I was feeling.

"Do you need something?" Yuuji asked me in a low voice.

"I already have everything I need," I said, looking at Y/n.

Masterlist.

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Tag list: @maskedpacific @thepurpleempath @mazzd4 @charlie-xo @s0uldarling @sunako-0120 @berranurates @00frenchfries00 @crownedgemini @alialucille @azuremyst99 @dorck26 @esposadomd

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kwebtv · 5 months

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TV Guide - December 28, 1963 - January 3, 1964

Anna Marie “Patty” Duke (December 14, 1946 – March 29, 2016) Actress of stage, film and television. She first became famous as a tween star, winning an Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress at age 16 for her role in The Miracle Worker, which she had originated on Broadway. She later starred in the sitcom, The Patty Duke Show. She progressed to more mature roles upon playing Neely O'Hara in the 1967 film Valley of the Dolls. She served as the president of the Screen Actors Guild from 1985 to 1988, four years after her Patty Duke Show co-star William Schallert held the same office

In 1982, Duke was cast alongside Richard Crenna in the ABC sitcom It Takes Two, from Soap and Benson creator Susan Harris. The socially topical series depicted both Duke’s and Crenna’s characters as a modern career couple (hers was a lawyer, his a surgeon) and the moral and personal challenges that abounded from their professions. Helen Hunt and Anthony Edwards played their teenaged offspring. Although It Takes Two was praised, ABC cancelled the series after one season due to low ratings.

Duke would subsequently work with Susan Harris on a new ABC series, Hail To The Chief, which premiered in April 1985. She appeared as the first female President of the United States in the ensemble, all-star series (the cast featured Dick Shawn, Herschel Bernardi, Glynn Turman and Ted Bessell as Duke’s husband, among others) and the material was topical yet off-the-wall, much in the fashion of Soap, like which it was partially serialized. Hail To The Chief was less successful than the star’s and producer’s previous joint effort of It Takes Two and was cancelled after seven episodes. In 1987, Duke returned to series television in another short-lived comedy, Karen’s Song, which aired on the fledgling Fox network. (Wikipedia)

#TV Guide #TV #1963 #Patty Duke #The Patty Duke Show

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libras-interactives · 8 months

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Various Libras-Interactive Projects

Currently Updating:

Under the Devil's Moon. Lackdaisy Interactive Fanfic made with Twine. Currently at ~29k words, while the beta has ~48k. A crime/gangster story set in 1920's St. Louis, in which everyone is a cute cat and the MC has a terrible habit of getting into trouble and also owes a debt to the sketchiest lawyer imaginable. Fully customizable Cat!MC with multiple backgrounds + personalities, ~8 official love interests and aro/ace options.

The Last Spring. ASOIAF Interactive Fanfic made with Twine. Currently at ~25k. A court drama story set in Pre-Robert's Rebellion book canon, the MC is invited to King's Landing for Prince Rhaegar and Princess Elia's wedding ... and in true ASOIAF fashion, has to juggle avoiding death, scandal and an awful marriage. Fully customizable Female MC, multiple backgrounds + personalities, aro/ace option not in yet, only three love interests so far (with more planned).

#might combine this blog & my CureUs one bc why not lol #anyway after that anon i figured id throw this up and also mention CureUs bc its my og baby #if:last spring #if:devil's moon #interactive fiction #visual novel #got x reader #game of thrones x reader #lackadaisy x reader #twine game #ren'py game

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startrekfangirl2233-writes · 10 months

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Money, Money, Money

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Sequel to Mm, Daddy, Daddy.

Description: Your life has been completely changed since you fell in love with Jake Seresin. For one, you've never been to Monaco before, and you've never set foot on a yacht before either. But with Jake, you're ready for anything, even if your afternoon becomes a little spicier than first expected. Disclaimer: Female Reader, Slight BDSM, Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby Relationship. This is also very clearly an AU! In this universe, Jake is a high flying, jet-setting lawyer, a very successful one. This is a story completely full of adult elements. It is for adults 18+ only. Minors Do Not Interact. Word Count: 2117 Author Note: So, if you've all read Mm, Daddy, Daddy, you'll know exactly why this thought had such a foothold on me. I had to write a sequel. This one is for @desert-fern. The title for this fic comes from ABBA's Money, Money, Money

AO3: Cross-posted here! Wattpad: Cross-posted here! Anthology Masterlist My Masterlist

How is this your life? It's a question you've asked yourself since you found yourself in a happy, committed relationship with Jake Seresin. Over the past four years of being with Jake, loving Jake, you've fallen even deeper in love with him every day. He's been your biggest supporter. In fact, you know for sure you never would have graduated from graduate school, not without him. You know that his contacts helped in your career too. It's surprising how many people Jake knows on the board of directors of Marine Biology labs. But more than anytime you wonder at the turns your life has taken, no day has been as surreal as today.

When Jake asked you to marry him, you'd been ecstatic, if a little nervous. It's not the glitz and glam of his life as a high profile lawyer. You've been ancillary to the glitz and glam of his high fashion world for as long as you've known him. It's that in four years, you've never once met his family. You didn't either until the week of your wedding. But over expensive champagne and expensive hor d'oeuvres, your family and his were united as were Jake and you. That very night you'd flown via private jet to Monaco, where Jake's yacht was waiting.

The midday sun is hot and incredibly bright from behind your eyelids as you lay on your stomach and soak in the rays. Every inch of you, from the roots of your hair to the tips of your toes, is soaked in moisture. Sweat prickles at the backs of your knees and the crooks of your elbows, sliding down your back to pool at the base of your spine as it mixes with the sunscreen coating your skin. You would nearly be asleep, like a cat in a patch of sun, if you weren't putting on a deliberate show in your completely untied skimpy bright blue bikini.

You'd started wearing a cover-up over your bikini, one of Jake's t-shirts teasingly buttoned over your navel, as you'd laid out on a lounge on the yacht's deck. But back to you and your blue bikini. The shade is a near-perfect shade match for the Sapphire adorning your left-hand ring finger. So about half an hour after you'd laid out in the sun, off the shirt came.

"Blue, baby! That's an awful lot of exposed skin. Do you need a reapplication of sunscreen?" After that comment, you weren’t surprised to feel Jake’s skin against yours.

Jake smirked at you before covering your lips in a kiss. Everything had stayed chaste until his hands began spreading sunscreen across your skin. His hands were teasingly gentle as he untied your bikini strap across your back and then the strap at the back of your neck.

"Jakey!" You gasped, trying to push his hands away. "There are a ton of yachts around, aren't there?"

"You've got nothing to worry about, baby." His words and hot kisses down your spine made you shudder. "We're all alone out here. And we're in Europe, baby. A little nudity is de rigueur!"

A moan masked any further protests as Jake's big hot hands freed you from your bikini bottoms. Jake had massaged your skin with the lotion, keeping his touches just light enough to have your skin goose-pimpling in need without giving you any release. Then he'd left, retreating to the wheel with a ridiculous white captain's hat perched on his head.

That's when you'd decided that turnabout was fair play. It's not an accident that the lounge chair you're on is right in view of the wheel. You start by sitting up and stretching, exaggerating the actions and how your tits jiggle with each movement. You can't read Jake's expression from behind his mirrored lenses, but you know he's only looking at you. But you hadn’t done anything else, choosing to lay in the sun again, leading you to this moment. You’ve been lying bare in the sun for nearly an hour now.

You turn over, reaching for the bottle of sunscreen and squirting some between your palms. The rich scent of coconut and hibiscus hangs heavy in the air as you warm the sticky lotion in your hot hands. You loll your head to the side, keeping direct eye contact with your husband as you cup your heavy breasts in your hands. You slather the lotion carelessly over your tits, pausing to tweak your nipples until your areolas are pebbled, and your nipples are peaked even in the hot, heavy afternoon air.

With more lotion, you let your hands trail teasingly lower. You trace abstract patterns across the meat of your thighs, keeping direct eye contact as you part your thighs teasingly. Each swipe draws your fingers even closer to the apex, your dripping core aching for more stimulation than you've gotten. That's the final straw for your husband, it seems.

Soundtracked by a bitten-off curse, you hear the yacht motor silence and the heavy tread of footsteps as Jake makes his way down to the deck where you are. Dragging your sunglasses off, you turn until you're lying on your stomach in the lounge again. You cross your legs at the ankle, alluringly flexing the muscles as you peek at your husband.

"Heya, Cowboy!" You can't help how teasing your voice is. "See something you like?"

His groan sends heat boiling beneath your grin. "Oh, Baby Blue. Yeah, I think I do. D'you want me to show you how much?"

"I dunno, Mr. Seresin. I mean," You turn over again, taking a deep breath that has your chest heaving. "I put on this pretty little bikini and came here for someone special. But my husband, I dunno if you've seen him, just got me all hot and bothered, wet and wanting, without doing anything about it!"

As the final words leave your lips, you arch your back, pushing your tits into the palms of your hands, and smile sunnily up at him. His resulting growl has your legs falling apart automatically as Jake drags his shirt off and covers your body with his own. His kiss is wet and messy as he slants his mouth over yours and plunders your plush lips. Your arms wrap around his neck as you wriggle under him, trying and failing to get more stimulation.

It's a sharp smack to the meat of your ass that has your movements stalling.

"Oh, baby. Blue, my gorgeous bride. D'you want to show me how wet you are?" Jake's teeth drag bluntly over your pulse as his hands find purchase at your hips. His hands find no resistance as he levers your thighs apart, just far enough to have your legs wrap easily around his slim waist.

Your lips part in a drawn-out moan as Jake's hands find your peaked nipples. "I'm so wet for you, baby. I've been wet for you since you put sunscreen on me."

Jake kisses you long and deep before burying one of his fingers in your wet heat. But they’re not there for long because you’re vertical as Jake bodily moves you across the deck in one swift movement. For one fond moment, you hope Jake’s taking you to the bed below deck. But you’re wrong. Because in a few big steps, Jake’s dropping you over the side of the yacht.

The water is frigid in comparison to the heat of your skin, and you can’t hide how your teeth chatter as you come up for air. A splash nearly drags you under again as Jake cannonballs into the water beside you. You come up spluttering, your eyes screwed shut against the salty sea water while blindly groping for Jake. At the first bit of his skin, you make contact with, you pull yourself closer. As you wrap your arms and legs around Jake, you’re sure you more closely resemble a drowned bear cub wrapped around a tree than a human woman.

“YOU ASS!” Your voice is high-pitched as you blink away the last droplets burning your eyes and glare at your husband.

“I’m sorry, Baby. I just wanted to take you skinny dipping.” You scoff and make your way carefully up the ladder back on deck. You don't get very far, because Jake wraps his arms around you. You can feel his pout as he kisses your spine, even as he lets you climb all the way back up on deck.

“Just want me, Jakey! I’m all wet now.” Your pout is only half sincere as you stand dripping on the deck as Jake wraps a terry cloth robe around your frame.

“But, Baby, didn’t you know? It was a hidden part of my vows, promising that I’d always keep you wet and never keep you wanting." You laugh despite yourself, wrapping your arms around Jake's neck as you press kisses to his salty lips.

He's grinning himself even as he lifts you again, this time carrying you below deck. Jake presses you against the wall, kissing down your throat as he frees you from the robe. His tongue is hot as it traces over your skin. The heat under your skin rises to a fever pitch as Jake drops to his knees in front of you.

His hands part your thighs with no resistance, even as his tongue delves between your dripping folds. Each wet lick has you writhing even as Jake's forearm keeps you propped against the wall. Jake drags your leg up over his shoulder, opening you up further before he plunges two fingers into your drooling cunt and wraps his lips around your swollen clit.

The first wet suck has you writhing even further, digging your fingers into his hair. You tug on the wet strands, writhing under the steel bands of Jake's forearm as his fingers and mouth work your over with such alacrity that the band tightening in your gut is nearly ready to snap.

"Jake, Jake, Jake!" You're babbling already, back arching at the onslaught of sensations he's wrecking on your body. "Gonna cum, baby please! I'm gonna cum. Please can I cum, Daddy please?"

It's calling Jake Daddy that seems to set him off. His fingers grow more insistent within your wet cunt as the suctioning press of his lips drags your orgasm out of you. You cum with a scream, your back arching even as you gush over his fingers. When Jake slips up to pull you into his arms, your release coats his lips and drips down your neck. You clean him up willingly, sucking on his tongue even as you dip your fingers below the waistband of your husband's swim trunks to grip his thick cock.

"Gonna make you feel so good, my beautiful Blue. Gonna make you feel amazing. Gonna impale you on my cock until Daddy stuffs you full of his cum." You moan, relishing in the feeling of his skin on yours.

"Can you get on all fours for me, Baby?" Daddy's voice is a purr as he manhandles you onto the bed. His mouth is hot even as he sucks hickies over you bare back before he plunges his cock into your waiting hole. You can feel every inch of his length as it drives you wild, fucking into you until each sharp thrust sings through your veins.

"D-daddy!" Your skin is so sensitive that you feel spread thin and achingly horny. Your cunt aches, wanting to cum desperately. It doesn't feel at all like you just came minutes before. You feel like you need to cum like you need to breathe.

Your skin feels overly tight and you're so overcome that you're like a ragdoll in Jake's arms. "Please let me cum. Please! PLEASE!"

Daddy just won't let you cum, content to fuck into your sopping cunt until you're completely cock dumb. Your cunt is swollen around his length, your walls fluttering involuntarily at each thrust.

"D-DADDY!" You cum with a scream, your back arched as Jake tweaks your peaked nipples. Your orgasm sets Jake off on his own, his seed gushing hot as it fills your puffy cunt.

Jake carefully peppers kisses across your shoulders as he rearranges you to your side.

"Baby." His kisses are soft as he nuzzles over your skin.

"J-Jakey!" You turn over, whining as Jake's cock slips out of you. You're panting, even as exhaustion drips hypnotically through your veins.

"God I love you, baby." Jake sounds so fond of you, so in love with you as he slides his cock back into your sloppy hole.

You pepper wet kisses across his chest before nuzzling in closer. "Gonna make you a Daddy before long, Jakey. I love you."

His smile is the last thing you see before your eyes slip closed, content to enjoy a midday nap to the feeling of your husband's wedding band sliding over your skin.

Taglist:

@desert-fern 🥰 @mayhemmanaged 🥰 @cassiemitchell 🥰 @thedroneranger 🥰 @cherrycola27 🥰 @roosterforme 🥰 @dakotakazansky 🥰 @bobby-r2d2-floyd 🥰 @sarahsmi13s 🥰 @lovinglyeternal 🥰 @lovingbradshawafterdark 🥰 @mamaskillerqueen 🥰 @chaoticassidy 🥰 @kmc1989 🥰

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

#star writes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #money money money #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun imagine #jake hangman seresin smut #hangman smut #jake seresin smut #Spotify

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maluarty-blog · 4 months

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New IF :D

History:

After years of working as a prostitute in one of the wealthiest areas of your city, you find a job as a caretaker of a duke who has been wounded by the war. Hired by his sister, you are invited to live in their mansion with your son. Life really does seem to be giving you quite an opportunity, doesn't it?

Romantic options:

(Liah Chancellor) THE BLACK WIDOW: Female

She's the woman who hired you, Cesar's older sister.

She returned to the city after her husband passed away. Her personality is calm, carefully rehearsed, perfect, worthy of a duchess.

Appearance: The duchess has long curly hair tied up in a low bun and dark skin, her dark brown eyes do justice to her striking appearance. She is short and is always seen wearing black garments.

(César Chancellor) THE LOST KIN: Male

He was a war hero, but his glory days have left their mark.

You've been hired to look after him and his needs. He seems to judge everything you do, sharp dark blue eyes that seem to look for any mistake, or does he simply want to get to know you better? There's no way of knowing unless you break through his invisible barriers.

Appearance: His skin is dark brown, marked with old scars. His long, wavy hair reaches his back like the light waves of the sea. His stories were grand, but the man in the wheelchair seems nothing more than a vague ghost of what was left behind of his greatness.

(Tiana Reed) THE EXILED CHILD: Trans-Female

Tiana currently lives with Liah and her brother. She left home after her gender transition, losing her job as a lawyer and consequently her circle of friends. Many say that in childhood her hand was given in marriage to Liah, but the engagement was cancelled for unjustified reasons. With a light-hearted personality, she always seems to have a smile on her face, even if it sometimes looks worn.

Appearance: Her skin is fair and her blonde hair is cut short, she is of medium height and has round blue eyes. She is quite fashion-conscious, enjoying dressing up in a variety of outfits.

(Bruno Vanverd) THE KIND HEART: Male

Bruno is a childhood friend of Dimas, your older brother, and consequently yours. The son of one of the biggest merchant families in the region, Bruno has always liked to be with people and be close to them, even if it's against his family's wishes.

Appearance: He's tall, towering over almost everyone around him, his messy brown hair and fair skin are well known on the streets of your neighbourhood, as are his careful, attentive honey eyes.

(Jean ??) THE REBEL WITHOUT A CAUSE: F or M

Jean is what they call a real troublemaker and a challenge for their family. Not even their lessons have been able to fix the rebellious person who only thinks about enjoying life's pleasures, without bothering about their family's problems.

Appearance: Red hair (short and wavy if male, or shoulder-length and wavy if female) and pale skin. They're tall and their eyes are a shade of brown.

I intend to post it this weekend, I'm finishing correcting it and I also plan to release the complete prologue of Behind your eyes this week too! (finally!! because it's been ready since December, but I haven't had much time to do anything about it these past months, I really like to go over and over things, because English is not my first language and I really worry about how I write, I make a lot of mistakes on the keyboard with double letters ksks, and even though I've been on holiday, I've had a lot of exams and other matters( and cof baldurs gate 3 cof cof)).

#twine if #twine wip

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beardedmrbean · 8 months

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LOS ANGELES — The day she was set to receive an award recognizing her work promoting inclusivity and social justice, Lizzo was again sued by a former employee who said that behind the scenes, the entertainer allows bullying, harassment and racial discrimination.

“I felt like I was living in a madhouse,” fashion designer Asha Daniels, 35, told NBC News the day before she filed her lawsuit against Lizzo and other members of the singer’s team. “It was totally shocking.”

“I was listening to this Black woman on this huge stage have this message of self-love and caring for others and being empathetic and being strong and standing up for others,” she said. “And I was witnessing myself, the dancers and the background vocalists and my local team in every city be harassed and bullied regularly.”

The suit, filed Thursday by lawyers for Daniels in Los Angeles County Superior Court, accused wardrobe manager Amanda Nomura of doing stereotypical impressions of Black women, referring to the performers as “fat,” “useless” and “dumb,” and forcing them to change in front of a mostly white, male stage crew who would “lewdly gawk” at them, the suit says.

Daniels was fired after she complained about Nomura, according to the suit.

“Lizzo is the boss, so the buck stops with her,” Daniels’ lawyer, Ron Zambrano, said in a statement Thursday.

Zambrano, the lawyer for three former dancers who accused Lizzo of sexual harassment and a hostile work environment in a lawsuit last month, echoed allegations made in Daniels’ suit, saying Lizzo “has created a sexualized and racially charged environment on her tours that her management staff sees as condoning such behavior, and so it continues unchecked.”

Lizzo has previously said that although she has to make difficult decisions, “it’s never my intention to make anyone feel uncomfortable or like they aren’t valued as an important part of the team.”

Thursday’s suit alleged sexual harassment, racial discrimination, failure to prevent a hostile work environment and other accusations. Nomura was named as a defendant, as was Lizzo, whose real name is Melissa Viviane Jefferson, her production company, Big Grrrl Big Touring Inc., and her tour manager, Carlina Gugliotta.

Representatives for Lizzo did not immediately reply to a request for comment. Gugliotta did not immediately respond to a request for comment. Attempts to reach Nomura were unsuccessful.

Lizzo has denied the previous allegations, calling the dancers’ accounts “sensationalized stories” that were false and “outrageous.”

Lizzo is set to be honored Thursday with the Black Music Action Coalition’s Quincy Jones Humanitarian Award for her philanthropic work and commitment to social justice, the group said in a news release.

“She has been a longtime advocate for inclusivity and uses her music to empower marginalized groups to promote diversity,” the release said.

Valuing female empowerment

Daniels first worked for Lizzo in September 2022, designing custom clothing for her dancers, and was hired early this year to tour with the performer, the lawsuit said.

Daniels said that she had been friendly with Nomura, and that she was thrilled to work for someone whose values of female empowerment she shared.

“As a Black woman myself, I love when I see Black women that have a big stage that use that stage to uplift us,” she said.

According to the suit, Daniels’ worked seven days a week, from 6 a.m. to 2 a.m. and was told to work even after she injured her ankle.

Nomura told Daniels never to interact with Lizzo or to dress attractively in front of her because it may make Lizzo jealous, the suit said. Even though she was taken aback by the comment — “Lizzo is beautiful, she’s talented, she’s got an amazing career, she has no reason to be jealous of anyone,” Daniels told NBC News — she said she followed the rule and never spoke to Lizzo.

Privacy concerns

The dancers were forced to change in front of Lizzo’s stage crew, most of whom were white men who would “lewdly gawk, sneer, and giggle while watching the dancers rush through their outfit changes,” the suit alleged.

When Daniels complained to Nomura that the dancers had no privacy, Nomura allegedly told her not to alert anyone else to the matter, according to the suit.

Daniels was scolded for providing new stockings to dancers after they damaged their clothing while performing and was “specifically instructed to not give certain dancers panties, mirrors, or items they would need and ask for, despite those items being stocked,” the suit said. The suit did not indicate why.

Alleged slurs, threats and offensive impressions

Nomura allegedly mocked Lizzo and her dancers with what the lawsuit described as a “stereotypical sassy Black woman imitation.” Daniels told her the imitations were offensive, the suit said, and Nomura ignored her.

Nomura also appeared to threaten employees, according to the suit. On one occasion, she used a slur and said she would “kill” anyone who put her job in jeopardy, the suit said.

After Daniels complained to Gugliotta, Lizzo’s tour manager, she allegedly asked Daniels to surreptitiously record Nomura, according to the suit.

Daniels declined, believing it would be unethical and possibly illegal, and continued to work for Lizzo, according to the suit.

Sexually charged complaints

When they traveled to Amsterdam, she heard managers discussing hiring sex workers for lewd sex acts, attending sex shows and buying hard drugs, according to the suit.

Daniels said she did not attend the events. The lawsuit filed last month on behalf of three former dancers describes one of those dancers going to an Amsterdam strip club, Bananaenbar, and accuses Lizzo of encouraging cast members to engage with performers and pressuring the dancer to touch one of them.

The dancer repeatedly declined, according to the suit, but relented after Lizzo allegedly led a chant goading her to do so.

Daniels’ suit also alleged that a manager texted a sexually graphic image to more than two dozen people.

“No one from LIZZO’s management team addressed this graphic sexual imagery in the workplace appropriately,” the suit said.

In February, Daniels told the tour manager, Gugliotta, about what the suit called “widespread racial and sexual harassment” taking place on tour. She was fired weeks later, on March 6, the same day she said Nomura scolded her for taking a break after an allergic reaction, the suit said.

Daniels told NBC News she learned of her termination via a plane ticket in her email.

The tour manager later told Daniels that “everyone” was aware Nomura was “crazy” and apologized several times but said it would be too difficult to replace Nomura, the suit said. The manager told Daniels that Nomura wanted her “gone” for speaking up, according to the suit.

Although Daniels had come to view her working conditions as increasingly hopeless, she said, she was stunned about her removal. She had been committed to staying for her relationships with the dancers and others who she said weren’t getting the support they deserved.

The firing was especially stunning, Daniels added, because she said Gugliotta had nothing but praise for her designs.

Afterward, Daniels said, the manager asked if she would continue doing design work for the dancers — an offer Daniels said she accepted because of her relationships with the performers and because she didn’t want them wearing mass-produced leotards purchased online, a “highly disrespectful” option Daniels said they’d previously been given.

While working for Lizzo and in the months that followed, Daniels suffered lingering physical and psychological problems, including anxiety and impaired vision, according to the suit. She said she previously considered suing Lizzo over what she described as the most toxic work environment she’d ever experienced, but she came forward only after learning of last month’s lawsuit.

“Not only do they deserve for me to stand up for them, but I also deserve to stand up for myself,” she said. “Twenty-five-year-old Asha deserves someone to stand up for her.”

Daniels’ plea to Lizzo and her managers now, she said, is to take the performer’s values of love and support seriously.

“Black women deserve to work in spaces where we feel safe, where we aren’t being harassed, where we aren’t being sexualized," she said. “We’re allowed to just be great and work hard, and be treated the way that everyone else is allowed to be treated."

#nunyas news #this is wild to watch play out in real time

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ultimatepinkgirl · 1 year

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Elle woods propaganda time??!?!?

Aight listen. Barbie may be an Iconic Pink Girl, but she did not start out this way. Barbie started off as a black and white girl in 1959 with her striped swimsuit! Her primary color didn’t become pink until the 70’s.

Elle woods, however, was pink from the START! It’s also an essential representation of not only her character in the movie, but a symbol of female empowerment and what the movie stands for as a whole. While yes, Barbie has made moves in more recent years (and arguably some further in the past) to stand for female empowerment, Legally Blonde is THE iconic female empowerment movie and brings a whole new badass association to the color pink.

Imagine two girls in two pink themed outfits: to compare her to Barbie is to call her cute and fashionable, but to compare her to elle is to call her, cute, fashionable, and BADASS! (not to say Barbie is not also badass- but remember the aforementioned stronger themes of female empowerment). Elle also paved the way for many women to be inspired and empowered to either pursue or keep pursuing their law careers despite it being something of a “boys club”, including THIS iconic woman:

She literally started an all-pink, all-female law firm of her own where she and her partners were free to be badass lawyers who were ALSO feminine- making waves in a traditionally male, conservatively dressing profession!

And she’s only one of many other female lawyers and professional women Elle inspired!

Tl;dr, Elle had a more profound and impactful effect on bringing empowerment to the color pink and femininity as a whole, something women are/were often thought lesser of for expressing. While Barbie has had some similar effects, her dolls have also had a good amount of negative effects on young girls/women as well (although that’s been turning around lately, woohoo!). Elle has been strictly KEEPING IT POSITIVE (oh yeah, did I mention she has an iconic and absolute BANGER of a musical? Stream Legally Blonde rn).

Anyways, ELLE SWEEP pls i need her to win i care her SO MUCH. GN.

!!!

#i have no additions you said so much #mod talks

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 3 months

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Thank you, Mr Chairman, I’m Jeff Cleghorn, sixth generation Georgian, live in Butts County, army veteran, retired lawyer, and have been a gay rights activist for the last three decades.

I served on the board of directors of Georgia Equality and Lambda Legal,and am a past president of the Stonewall Bar Association. I have long advocated for the equal dignity of gay and lesbian Georgians and Americans.

SB88 is necessary because queer, gender identity transgender activism, and the transgender medical industry, are aggressively targeting children of all ages including inside school classrooms. This is a belief system that many people, me included, do not believe in.

The gay rights movement succeeded because we changed hearts and minds, and we did it the old-fashioned way: by telling the truth about our lives. And today, gays and lesbians live in every Georgia county happy and content to love our families and be good citizens. I have long known and worked with many transgender people, and I know that they only want to live their lives in peace, free from mistreatment by anyone. And I’m glad trans Americans and Georgians now have every legal right as the rest of us with the Supreme Court recently expanding Title VII to include workplace protections for transgender.

But, as a result of piggybacking transgender activism on the gay movement of yesterday, transgender activists never did the work. They skipped right over the changing hearts and mind part. Instead, they stridently declared the “LGBTQ+ is now a single identity," and that some people can be both sexes at the same time, while other people are neither male nor female, and some people are born in the wrong body, and some women have a penis. and there are 58 different genders, and as many pronouns.

SB88 is necessary because the former gay rights movement has been hijacked by those pushing this dishonest gender ideology on children. This is about much more than helping kids with gender dysphoria, most of whom will grow up to be gay or lesbian if left alone, according to every study ever conducted on the subject. This is about indoctrinating kids into a belief system that is not real.

Tens of millions of dollars are spent each year by groups like GLSEN and the Trevor project specifically targeting kids with this ideology. And queer activists push this belief system that gender and sex and sexuality can mean whatever someone says they mean, and there should be no boundaries.

Parents have every right to know if this stuff shows up in their child’s school. No one had ever heard of a transgender child until recently and today we see tens of thousands of young females soliciting GoFundMe donations online to amputate their healthy breasts or to have “gender affirming hysterectomies."

15 years ago, there were only two or three so-called gender clinics. Today there are hundreds, including more than 50 paediatric. The skyrocketing thousands of percent recent increase in kids claiming a trans identity is not by accident and children are being harmed.

There are more than 52,000 members of a Reddit transitional group, mostly young lesbians, and gay men with gutting stories of regret, sterility, loss of sexual function, early onset osteoporosis, and vaginal atrophy as the transgender medical industry is laughing all the way to the bank.

SB88 is needed because they are proselytizing this queer, sex, sexuality ideology to children. Activists and schools have no business interfering with the parent-child relationship.

Do not let schools teach kids to keep secrets from their parents. These are not Georgia values. Thank you.

#Sara Higdon #Jeff Cleghorn #SB88 #gender identity ideology #queer theory #gender ideology #indoctrination #child indoctrination #childhood indoctrination #pronoun culture #pronouns #gay rights movement #gay rights #gay conversion therapy #gay conversion #medical corruption #medical scandal #medical malpractice #religion is a mental illness

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booklove22 · 1 year

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Thought I’d throw some ideas out there for what would constitute Acceptable Relationship Angst that would keep things interesting without blowing up the relationship:

“In my line of command” angst (clearly already setting this up, particularly from the external conflict standpoint of “what if someone finds out”). But I would also love this to be explored from the internal conflict angle as well. Where perhaps Tim actively tries to keep Lucy off of assignments he deems too dangerous because he’s letting his boyfriend bias influence his decisions as Sergeant. I could see them having a fight about it before he finally admits that he’s scared of losing her (swoon). This could also be a trigger for them finally outing their relationship and making the necessary career changes.

In life-threatening danger angst. Can you be a feminist who likes strong female characters but still want a good old fashioned damsel in distress moment? Because thats me. Lucy in mortal peril? Overprotective Tim flipping out? Grey being like “you’re too close to this” and refusing to let him work the case? Tim going rogue to find/save her anyway? *chefs kiss*

Jealousy angst. Not real jealousy per se. These two only have (heart) eyes for each other. But I still like the idea of someone trying to make moves on Lucy and Tim getting pouty about it. Especially if they are are still secret dating or shes undercover and he can’t openly do anything about it. Ok maybe this is more comedy than angst. Angst light!

Family angst. Someone else mentioned this (can’t remember who but props to them), about how Lucy’s mom wanted her to have a more prestigious job (Doctor? Lawyer? I can’t remember). And that someone who openly disparages her daughters career path (and practically forces egg harvesting on her!) might not take well to Lucy dating another cop. “But what happened with that nice lawyer?” 🙄

Deathbed angst. I’m a sucker for a good “one partner stands vigil over the other while they’re in critical condition and may not survive” moment. Bonus points for tears shed. Double bonus points if the person is there when the other gets hurt and cradles them in their arms while screaming for help. 🥺

#chenford #the rookie

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punchdrunkdoc · 1 year

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Part 2, Chapter 14

Summary: After the events of S3, Matt Murdock is trying to once again balance life as a lawyer and a vigilante. But he’s been scarred by loss and betrayal - will a mysterious new neighbour help him heal? Or will her secrets drag him back into the darkness?

Notes: This is a slow burn romance with an original female character, told in 3 parts. There is mystery, intrigue, action/violence and angst - all the good stuff!

Also available on AO3 and Wattpad

Masterlist

Reference pics

————–

This is a slightly shorter chapter, but its building up to the moment you’ve all been waiting for...

————–

PART 2

Chapter 14

Matt tried.

He really tried to take Foggy’s advice and stay off the streets tonight.

He worked late at the office, and ate dinner at the burger joint around the corner, lingering over his meal as darkness fell outside the restaurant window. Then he went to Fogwell’s and spent over an hour pummelling the punching bag and lifting weights.

But that only ate up so much time. When he let himself into the apartment afterwards and dropped his gym bag by the door, there was still so much of the night left to endure. Hours stretched ahead of him, with nothing to occupy his mind. Nothing to divert his thoughts away from Calina…

Nothing but the sounds of distress and pain and fear coming from the streets below.

Matt stood in his living room and clenched his fists as a sharp cry rang out from a few blocks away.

No.

He couldn’t do it.

It didn’t matter that he wasn’t in the right headspace. That he was distracted by the loss of Calina and preoccupied with thoughts of what might have been…he had a responsibility to his city.

And he couldn’t stand by while people were being hurt.

He rushed over to the closet and grabbed his suit. Within minutes he was dressed and racing up the stairs to the roof.

He was Daredevil.

And the streets were where he belonged.

———

The old fashioned sodium lamp in front of the Chinese consulate cast a bright cone of light onto the darkened street, which Matt could detect by the slight warming of the air.

But he wasn’t interested in what was in that lighted space. He was interested in the tall, lanky guy just out of its reach. The one lurking in the mouth of the alleyway beside the large concrete building.

Matt had found his way to this part of the city just after midnight. When darkness fell, the Hudson River parkway was a hotspot for drug deals and muggings, so Matt usually patrolled this area as part of his normal route through Hell’s Kitchen.

But it wasn’t normal for him to linger in one place like this.

He’d been scoping out this block for the last hour, perched on the rooftop beside the consulate, cataloguing everyone that came and went…because this was the next likely site of a fear pheromone attack. The map of cases that Foggy and Karen had been painstakingly plotting for weeks all pointed to this location.

And Matt wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass him by.

Finding the people behind these attacks was the only ‘win’ that Matt could see on his horizon. It was the only thing that was actually going right in his life at the moment. So even though Foggy would be pissed at him for being here, there was no way he was turning back.

Especially since his gut was telling him that this was the right place…

…and that the guy hiding in the shadows beside the consulate was his man.

He’d been standing there for more than twenty minutes now, and his heart rate had accelerated gradually over that span of time. Now he looked downright jittery, one hand compulsively adjusting the ball cap on his head, and the other clenching his phone so tight Matt could hear the plastic casing creak from the rooftop overhead. The man checked the display as another message came through - he’d been receiving texts steadily over the last ten minutes, but he’d never once replied.

Matt quietly descended the fire escape and crouched in the alleyway behind him, ready to intervene when the moment came. From this close, he could detect the sharp smell of nervous sweat radiating from the man. And beneath that…the familiar acrid scent of the fear pheromone.

This was definitely the guy.

Matt’s own heart started to pound faster in anticipation. Then he held his breath as the clack-clack-clack of high heels rang out on the deserted street. He cocked his head, trying to pin-point the direction of the sound.

It - a woman - was coming towards them. She must have just left the consulate after a very late night at work. It made sense that some of the staff must be on Beijing time, but it left this particular worker at risk of being targeted.

Sure enough, the man in the shadows straightened up and reached into his pocket. He swapped his phone for a small cylindrical device and gripped it in his hand as the woman walked closer and closer. She passed through the light of the streetlamp and the man raised his hand, preparing to release the pheromone…but Matt got there first.

He rushed up behind the man and grabbed his arm. He wrenched it behind his back, quickly plucking the device from his hand and tossing it to the ground. Then he kicked the back of the man’s legs, forcing him to his knees. The man grunted at the impact, drawing the attention of the woman passing by the darkened alley. The clack of her heels paused as she registered the sound, but she was obviously wise enough to not stick around and investigate - her footsteps accelerated as she hurried away from the scene, leaving Matt alone with her would-be attacker.

Matt grabbed the hood of the man’s sweatshirt and dragged him further into the alleyway, then roughly shoved him against the wall. He used one hand to pin him in place, and the other he clenched into a fist. He cocked his arm back in warning, and spat out a single word, “Talk.”

“I- I- I-,” the man stuttered, shaking his head.

Matt leaned closer, letting the man get the full effect of his Devil mask. “Talk,” he repeated, dropping his voice even lower. “Where did you get that device? Who are you working for?”

“No-one!”

Matt punched him, a quick hard strike in the nose. “Wrong answer.”

“It’s the truth,” the man wheezed. “These random dudes paid me a hundred bucks to take that thing and use it on someone. They said it was just for a prank!”

“Any you believed them?”

“I needed the money, man. I didn’t think about it too closely.”

Matt studied the man’s heart, trying to determine if he was lying, but it had been racing for the last five minutes. Fear and anxiety radiated from him. If Matt didn’t know any better, he’d suspect he was a victim of the pheromone rather than a wielder of it. But the scent he’d detected earlier was coming from the device - not the man.

He was just scared. Which meant his story - as bizarre as it sounded - was probably the truth.

“Where were these guys?” Matt asked. “The ones who paid you?”

“Um, they were coming out of that abandoned store on West 52nd. You know, the one near the Hustler Club.”

Matt nodded and took a step back, releasing the man. “Get the hell out of here.”

The man took off running. Matt picked up the device from the ground and secured it in his belt. Then he scaled up the side of the building to his right. He looked north, in the direction of the Hustler’s club.

It was only 10 rooftops away.

He was only 10 rooftops away from finally getting some answers.

He backed up and started running.

———

Matt swore as he stalked through the corridors of the abandoned building.

It was empty.

He was definitely in the right place - the faint scent of the fear pheromone lingered in the air, and the basement was filled with discarded lab equipment - but not a soul could be found on the premises.

Judging from the dust covered surfaces and the old scents clinging to the furniture, the operation that was running out of this place had been shut down a while ago.

Matt jogged up the stairwell, hoping to find something on the next floor that might explain what the fuck was going on…and who was lying to who. Because either the man from the alleyway had been duped by the guys at this location, or he’d given the wrong intel to Matt on purpose.

But if that was the case…why?

Matt got his answer moments later.

Just as he reached the door to the top floor, the music from the strip club next door suddenly quieted. It had been pounding out a droning techno beat from the moment Matt stepped foot in the building, the sound carrying through the walls and filling his senses. But in the sudden silence, a new sound hit his ears: a barely perceptible tick-tick-tick…

Matt paused, his hand on the door handle as he cocked his head and listened closer. It was probably a clock in a long-abandoned office. This building used to be a woodworking supply store, so it would make sense for there to be an office or two.

But Matt’s instincts were screaming at him that it was something else. Something far more dangerous. He stretched his senses out further, every muscle in his body locked as he concentrated on what the air was telling him…

And that’s when he picked it up - the subtle scent of plastic and motor oil. It was a combination he’d come across before, and it was one that was hard to forget, given what it signified - the presence of C4 explosives.

Now that he’d latched on to the scent, Matt could detect small deposits of it on every floor.C4 explosives. The whole building was wired to blow.

And the ticking clock was the timer.Shit!

He spun on his feet and raced up the stairs to the roof, his legs pumping as he took the steps three at a time, pushing himself to go faster. It had only been a matter of seconds since he’d picked up the sound of the bomb but his gut warned him he only had seconds more until it detonated.

Sure enough, he’d barely cleared the door leading out onto the roof when he heard the sharp click of the detonator. He felt the rumble of the explosion under his feet as he raced across the rooftop. And as he launched himself across to the adjacent building the blast-wave hit him, propelling him further and faster through the air as the fireball scorched his back.

He collided hard with the asphalt on the next roof over, and rolled to a stop in a graceless sprawl. He lay there for a couple of minutes, winded from the violent landing. When his breathing returned to normal, he rose up into a crouch and listened for the sounds of sirens, or the calls of the public reacting to the explosion. It had been large enough - and loud enough - to have woken everyone in a 10 block radius, so there were bound to be multiple people heading in this direction…but Matt couldn’t hear a thing over the high-pitched ringing in his ears.

He shook his head and banged the heels of his palms against his ears, but the loud piercing sound persisted. It drowned out all other noise, leaving him essentially deaf in both ears.

Deaf and blind.

Fear hit him in an instant. All of a sudden he was back in his apartment after being shot by Frank Castle, cowering against the wall and screaming in silence as his hearing shorted out. He’d never quite gotten over the terror he’d felt that day - the terror of being locked in his own head, cut off from his senses.

Helpless and alone.

And now he was right back there. But instead of being in the safety of his apartment, he was on a rooftop next to a burning building with - for all he knew - squads of police officers and firefighters arriving on the street below.

He was trapped!

He was less than a mile from his apartment, but it may as well be a continent away. He had no chance in hell of getting home in this condition while staying undetected, and he had no way to call for help - his phone was still shut away in his desk drawer at work.

His fear turned into full blown panic.

He scrambled across the rooftop, his arms out to guide him, and managed to find the water tower he’d spotted earlier from the street. He crouched down behind it and tried to get his bearings. He could tell that he was facing away from the burning building by the relatively cool air around him, but that was all he could discern of his surroundings. The smell of soot and ash clogged his nose, so even his sense of smell was lost to him.

He was completely and utterly shut off from the world around him.

Completely and utterly vulnerable.

His breathing sped up, until he could feel himself panting as he tried to gulp down enough air to ease the tightness in his chest. His heart was hammering and he started to feel light-headed.

He had to calm down! The last thing he needed was to lose consciousness on top of everything else. He forced himself to breathe deeply, holding each inspiration for a count of five before blowing the air out between pursed lips.

The meditative breathing seemed to help. But what made the biggest difference was imagining himself somewhere else. Somewhere much safer and infinitely more peaceful.

And what he pictured was his bed, with Calina lying in it next to him. She was in his arms, her long legs entwined with his. His head was tucked against the back of her neck and with each breath he imagined he could smell her delicious scent.

After a few minutes, the tight feeling in his chest eased, and his palpitations tailed off. He stood up and felt around for the ladder that would lead him to the top of the water tower. If he couldn’t get home, he would just hide up there until the immediate danger passed or his hearing returned - whichever came first.

He’d just found the first rung when he picked up faint rhythmic vibrations in the concrete beneath his boots.

Footsteps.

Someone was on this roof…and coming his way fast.

He ducked behind one of the tower’s metal pillars and slid his baton from the holder on this thigh, prepared to fight. It could just be a drunken reveller from the club below, but it could be a cop or someone from the gang that had set the explosive trap for him next door.

And both of those last options would be bad.

Matt held his breath and tightened his grip on his weapon as the steps got closer, the vibrations more distinct. The person was on the other side of the tower, so Matt was blocked from their view for now…

But then they rounded the structure, and Matt felt a hand come down on his arm. He reacted in an instant, batting the hand away and swinging his club. He didn’t expect to hit them, but he wanted it to act as a warning to whoever was up here with him.

They didn’t get the hint. The hand came back, this time trying to wrestle the baton away. Matt held firmly but his attacker hit the nerve cluster in his elbow causing his fingers to slip open. The baton fell to the ground between them, but Matt recovered fast. He swung out, but his punch was blocked. He tried again, in a quick volley of strikes, hoping that with sheer speed and power he could get some hits in.

Some of them landed.

Most missed.

But then he got a lucky break. His fist collided with his attackers arm, so he grabbed it, and slid his grip down to their wrist. He used the momentum to spin them around and caught their other wrist, pinning both of his attackers arms behind their back, and finally gaining the upper hand…

Or so he thought.

The person he’d trapped relaxed their body, bent their knees and ducked under his right arm. This unbalanced Matt, and a quick shove against his side caused him to topple and roll across the concrete roof.

He sprang to his feet and paused, his mind spinning as he recognised the familiar move.

It was the exact same one Calina had used against him when they’d sparred in Fogwell’s a few weeks ago.

Could it be…?

No. It was just a coincidence.

It had to be.

But then he sorted through the other information he’d gleaned from the brief fight just now. The build of his opponent matched Calina. The way they’d flowed out of reach of his punches was so similar to her fluid, defensive style…

No.

His mind was playing tricks on him - filling in the blanks of his sensory deprivation with wishful thinking. He hadn’t heard from her in 10 days, why would she all of a sudden be on this rooftop?

The person crept closer. But didn’t engage him again. And Matt realised that they’d never once attacked him. They’d grabbed for his baton after he’d tried to hit them with it, but all other moves had been made in defence.

As if they hadn’t wanted to hurt him…

Desperate hope warred inside him. And it managed to overcome his trepidation. “C-Calina?” he asked.

The person stepped even closer, so close he could feel their body heat. They carefully took his hand, and removed his glove.

And with a soft finger, spelled out a single word in braille on his palm:

YES.

————–

Chapter 15

@hollandorks @chezagnes @acharliecoxedfan @freckledbabyyy @yanna-banana @tearoseart-blog @stilldreaming666

#Daredevil #daredevil fic #daredevil fanfic #daredevil fanfiction #marvel's daredevil #daredevil x original female character #tabula rasa #Matt Murdock #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x oc

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sanjoongie · 2 years

Text

Privilege

ღPairing: San x Me, I (1st POV)

ღGenre: Fashion Designer! San × Model! Me

ღWord Count: 2,073

ღWarnings: light touching and teasing, pain kink, grinding, up against the wall sex, rough sex, spanking, g-spot orgasm, squirting, male and female orgasm

ღRated: 18+ mdni, smut with no plot

ღSummary: I’m a model and I’ve fallen in love with San. San wants to give me the world but I want to work for it. So we find middle ground, somehow in the bedroom

"Why are you leaving the bed?" San whined as his hands trailed along my hip as I got up.

"I have a shoot today, San," I replied while looking for my robe.

Pouty, bare-faced and sleepy, San blinked slowly. "For who?"

I rolled my eyes. "San, please."

San, quick and slick, wrapped his arms around me and pulled me back against his chest. His fingers played along the silk of my teddy on my thighs. "Who are you going to be wearing tonight, Babe?"

I couldn't help but smile to myself. San's love burns long, like an ember. "Ducky, I have to make money. I'm finally getting somewhere with my career."

San buried his face in the crook of my neck, voice muffled by my hair. "You should be the face of my brand."

I froze. In all my years, this was the coveted position to acquire. And I had slept my way to it? "San, no."

"Well, it may be too late. I've already done some talking and the lawyers are drawing up your contract already."

"Choi San, are you fucking kidding me right now?!" I turned around, still enclosed in his arms.

"What?" He frowned down at me.

"You don't think people will talk?" I raised my eyebrows at him.

"Let them talk! You're my muse. I've been sketching and all the designs are for you anyways. You're always on my mind." San bent his neck to kiss me.

I leaned back, out of the way of his lips. "You do not get to kiss me right now! What if I don't want to be the face of your brand?"

"You don't want to be my muse?" The utter sensitivity, the tangible worry coating his voice, pulled at my heartstrings.

"I don't want people to think that the only reason I became the face of your brand is because I let you fuck me."

San crooked an eyebrow at me. "You let me fuck you?"

"Be serious!"

"I am. You inspire me. I don't care if it's love or if it's you. This entire line will be for you. Now. Who are you wearing tomorrow?"

I pecked San chastely on the lips. "Wouldn't you love to know."

San roared and buried his face in my stomach. I squealed with laughter. "Okay okay, it's Hongjoong."

San stopped tickling me and peered up at me through his eyelashes balefully. "Are you serious?"

"I am. Hongjoong has some serious sway as a designer and as an activist. If he wants me modeling his clothes for a marketing campaign, I want to do it. It's an opportunity of a lifetime. I couldn't say no to that!"

San sighed heavily, chin still on my stomach. "Fine. That makes sense. But you should know, I'm really jealous."

"Gee, you think?" I said, mocking him.

"And that means," San did not break eye contact as he put his arms under my thighs and brought his mouth close to my core. "I should send you off with something to remind you of me."

I gazed down the length of my body, well aware of which parts of mine were bruised and which parts had been bitten. "I think you've left plenty of reminders all over my body from last night."

San protested, "But that was last night!"

I disentangled myself from San and scooched to the side of the bed once more. This time I was able to slide my feet into my slippers and dance out of San’s reach before he could ensnare me once more. He smiled in happiness, just enjoying the game of it all. Silly man.

People had already been talking about our sightings in clubs, in art museums, in Milan. We were seen everywhere and always together. Neither of us had been on social media for a month and it was driving everyone mad with curiosity. Currently we were held up in San's modern and luxurious condo in the city we lived in. We didn't want to talk to the world about all the reasons they thought we shouldn't date. We just wanted to be together.

But, bills must be paid and when Hongjoong sent emails, it was important for me to at least respond to them. I couldn't afford to burn that bridge but I also knew how jealous San would get. He wouldn't stop me; San trusted me. But there would be payment extracted for this.

Hongjoong’s shoot was long but amazing. The clothes he dressed me in fit like a dream. The cause was good and Hongjoong knew how to make me look gorgeous. It was an amazing experience but after ten hours, I was ready for a long soak and an even longer sleep.

That was not in my cards.

One step into the loft and San had me pinned against the back of the door. "San, really?"

San tucked his face into the crook of my neck. "I've missed you all day."

I patted his soft hair reassuringly. "I know, Ducky, but can't I take my shoes off at least?"

"No, that's my privilege." Without another word he was kneeling down and helping me step out of my heels. His hands travel down my calves and gently cup the heel of my foot.

"And my jacket?" I laughed.

"Also my privilege." San took a step behind me, running his fingers under the lapel of the blazer and finally pulled my jacket off my shoulders and down my arms.

This had become a game to him, again. I was honestly fine with San seducing me into bed. At least I knew I'd sleep after the glorious climax.

I sighed, turning around and leaned up against his chest. "What in the world did I ever do to deserve you, Choi San?"

San raised his hands to cup my face in them. “You're my muse, you simply had to exist. Now, let me refresh my memory. There’s a sketch I’m stuck on because I couldn’t recall how tiny your waist was.”

“If your plan was to ply me with compliments until I let you have your way with me,” I mused, “It’s working.”

San picked me up and I had no choice but to wrap my legs around his waist. "Will you let me love you then? I've been waiting all day."

I kissed him on the nose. "It would be my privilege."

He kissed me with my arms around behind his neck. They were lingering and savory and I could tell he wanted me to feel every second of it. His eyes remained studying me, like he had to commit back to memory what my face was like. He leaned in to kiss my jaw, down my neck, knowing full well if he went to my erogenous places, he could fast-start my libido. "Are you going to let me take my time?" He growled into my skin.

"Ducky, I'm so freaking tired--"

San's eyebrows furrowed, "I need you so badly. It's like if I don't sink myself into you, I'm going to go crazy." To prove a point, he grinded his lower half into mine and made my eyes roll into the back of my head. He was so fucking hard. "I need to reconnect with you."

I started to pepper his face with kisses. Underneath that intense gaze and sharp jawline, was a boy who just wanted to feel loved. It never went away and I never stopped enjoying feeding that beast. I kissed him fiercely, because I wanted him to know he was loved. I cupped his face with both of my hands, using my legs to leverage myself so that I could grind back down on him.

His arms snaked up the back of my thighs to cup my ass, pushing the skirt of my dress further up my legs. I broke our kiss to admire the way his arms bulged while holding my entire weight. "Bed," I ordered.

San shook his head, smiling in happiness, "It's not close enough."

Before I could protest, he had me up against the bare brick wall of his loft, the edges digging into my skin enough to cause me to gasp. San smirked, knowing full well he was pulling out all my kinks. His body moved with the finesse of a man who had fucked me so good in the past. The two of us watched as we ground ourselves into each other. The corduroy of his pants applied some nice extra pleasure but I was very quickly ruining my silk panties. My fingers were grasping for the button of his pants, struggling to pop it. San didn't break eye contact as he held me up with one arm and reached between us to get the button, the zipper and pulled them down. I raised an eyebrow. "Commando, sir?"

San sent me a very knowing look. "The material feels good."

There was no time lost after that. San pushed his way inside of me, which usually with his girth would be an issue but I was wet, I enjoyed the stretch and I needed him as much as he needed me. My lips descended on his again, this time there was no finesse, we simply needed to be connected in as many ways as we could. My fingers were buried in his hair and his fingers were digging into my ass cheeks.

"I missed you today," I said with a throaty whine.

"I miss you as soon as you close that damn door," San gasped as he didn't miss a single thrust.

My fingers tightened their grasp, having slight control of San's head. "Smack it."

I had a second to brace before his hand slapped my ass with an echoing noise. I groaned as he smoothed his hand over the red mark. The pain and pleasure was everything for me. "Other side," I commanded.

He did so, breath catching in his throat as I clamped down harder on him. "I'm going for that spot," He announced.

"Wait, San--"

"Come on," San cooed at me, "It's hot as fuck."

"It's embarrassing!" I whined, burying my face into the crook of his neck, but nodded that it was okay.

His hands held me in place, both moving down to hold onto my thighs so he could get his preferred angle. I could feel the tip of him moving against the spot inside of me. I couldn't help but cry out. The pace he took had me whimpering the entire time. His hips were thrusting against me so that his dick could brush that spot over and over and over. I could feel my climax building, the one that says I'm about to make a mess, but San wouldn't let me dwell on that. He left small kisses on my neck and then I was coming all over him. I could feel myself squirting against him, my walls milking him for all he's worth and it's not long before San is tossing his head back and shouting hoarsely. He rides both our highs slowly before the brick is digging into my skin a little too much.

"Sannie, we gotta move to the shower now. You're covered in my…" Embarrassment did not allow me to finish my sentence.

San shook his head, smiling even though he's clearly tired. "Just give me a moment. I can be ready again soon."

"Soon?" I shout in confusion.

San refused to remove himself from inside of me even though he had grown soft. He kitten-licked the side of my neck and caused me to squeal because I wasn't expecting it. "I waited too long for this. One time is not going to be enough for me."

"Sir," I said, trying to pull away. San's hands were locked behind the small of my back. "Nope, not happening," he said, smiling back at me.

"You're the only person I need," I sighed, sending a smile back.

"Maybe even the only fashion designer you need in your life," San insisted.

I burst into laughter and rolled my eyes, "Still not the same thing, San."

"But!" San couldn't help the pout that pulled at his lips. "Even though I made you the face of my company? My next entire fall/winter line will be for you. I will do it all for you."

"Maybe I'll think about it," I teased.

Spoiler alert, I didn't have time to think about it. There were two more rounds and an eat-in of wraps before round four.

#kvanity #ksmutclub #ateezlovenet #ateez smut #choi san smut #ateez scenarios #choi san scenarios #ღatz #topaz's work #sir i love you #happy birthday my love

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